Who am I?
by ijs1337
Summary: I woke up next to a burning car, with no idea who I am. And the kicker? I'm fairly certain the salvation of the planet from the greatest evil in existence depends on me.  may or may not involve theological crossovers.  Please review & comment
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I have plans for this OC. Grandiose plans. Expect series featuring him and his past later on down the line if this gets received well.**

Who am I?

I didn't really understand what was going on. I woke up next to a burning wreck of a 1975 camaro, and realized I didn't know myself. I mean, I had no idea who I was beyond my own name. And I could barely remember that. I saw a large pine tree, on a hill, in the distance, and I felt like I had to get there. I couldn't explain why. I couldn't really move much, so I clawed my way from the car to the tree. As I reached it, I felt a strange resistance as I tried to go past it, but it only lasted for a second. I felt a weird wetness on my legs. I looked behind me, and saw a long trail of red stretching from the car. I touched my right leg, and it came back covered in red.

"That's my blood. That's my blood. That's a _lot_ of my blood." I said.

I looked up, and saw what looked like sneakers beneath a pair of goat legs before I passed out.

When I woke up, I was in an unfamiliar room, but I guess everywhere is unfamiliar when you've lost your memory. My legs were wrapped in bandages.

"Ah. Our mysterious guest awakes." A voice said. Looking to my right, I saw a man in a wheelchair and tweed jacket.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Let's just call me Chiron for now. I think the more important question, young man, is who are you?" The man said.

"Chiron? Like the Greek-hero-training centaur?" I asked.

"Yes." The man replied.

"Alright, then."

"Like I said, who are you?"

"I don't know."

"That's understandable, but-"

"No, sir. You don't understand. When I say 'I don't know' I mean I _literally_ don't know who I am. I think I have amnesia, or something."

"Well. This is interesting. You're not an ordinary mortal, that much we've determined. But you don't seem like a-" He said, under his breath, but I could still hear him somehow.

"Excuse me, sir, but what do you mean by 'ordinary mortal?'"

"Exactly what I said."

"So, there are _un_ordinary mortals?"

"What if I told you that gods actually existed, that they now live in America, and that they have half-human children?"

"You're talking to a kid with zero memory. I think I'd believe just about anything right now."

"This doesn't surprise you?"

"Like I said; zero memory. So, are we talking capital G god, or low levels of divineness, or what?"

"Well, capital G God, that's well outside my sphere. We shan't deal with the metaphysical. The gods I'm talking about are the Greek gods."

"Hence the name of Chiron. So, is that just like, you're the newest Chiron, or are you _the_ Chiron?"

"I am _the_ Chiron, as you put it."

"How do you know I'm not an ordinary person?"

"You crossed the boundary line."

"Alright then. That makes perfect sense."

I'm fairly certain I passed out again, because I didn't hear what Chiron said next.

When I woke up, Chiron was looking down at me. He had apparently fixed his crippled legs, and gotten them replaced with a horse's bottom half, because he towered over me.

"Well, that's some irrefutable proof. Or you put something in the water." I said.

"I assure you, there is nothing in the water."

"So, what happens to me?"

"As I said, you're no mortal, but you're not a demigod, as far as we have been able to determine. No-one here is quite sure what to do about you just yet. I was still debating with the camp director about you."

"So I'm a major source of contention and I've been conscious here for about ten minutes total. New personal best, I'm sure."

"Just…wait for me on the front porch."

I was still waiting two hours later, when a group of about twelve tough, mean-looking kids led by an extremely tough-looking girl walked up to me. The girl put me in a chokehold and dragged me over to what I could only assume were the restrooms.

"Hey, man-hands. This is the guy's restroom, in case you didn't notice." I said as she shoved me into one of the stalls.

She punched me in the gut, turned me around, and tried to shove my head in the toilet.

Time seemed to slow down.

I felt something in my head, like a series of locks turning, doors opening. My mind seemed to shift. I knew exactly what do, and what everyone else in this under-funded bathroom was likely to do.

I slammed the back of my head into the girl's nose, and drove my left knuckle into her right forearm. I kicked her in the stomach, knocking her out of the stall.

I grabbed the door and swung it outwards viscously, jamming the edge against the nose of the kid coming at me from the front, and slamming the frame into the face of the kid approaching from the right.

I punched the nearest one the face.

One of them grabbed me from behind. I ran backwards and slammed the guy holding onto me into the mirror. I banged the back of my head against his face, then grabbed a falling shard of glass. I slid out of the guy's grip, slammed his hand against the wall, and drove the shard through it. I punched him in the face to make sure he stayed out, then pulled the shard from his hand.

I swept the shard up along the face of the nearest kid, and kicked him between his legs.

Someone grabbed me from behind.

I jabbed the glass shard backwards, and was rewarded with a scream.

A girl in front of me tackled me and started punching me in the face. When she hit me the third time, I palm-struck her forearm, and felt the bone crack and break. I shoved her off me.

The first girl, the leader, was up and coming at me now. I was a few steps behind the door. She tried to punch me. I sidestepped, grabbed her arm, and tossed her over my shoulder.

I circled around. I heard voices outside.

The girl got up, and I hit her in the face, right along the jaw. I hit her again, right on her forehead. I punched her in the chest, in the gut, got in two uppercuts to her jaw, then drove my elbow into her throat. I spun around and kicked her, taking her off her feet and sending her into the door.

She knocked the door clean open and landed in a bruised, beaten heap outside. There were several others waiting a few feet from the door. They all looked different, but three of them stood out to me in particular. One was a boy with black hair and green eyes. Standing next to him was what looked like a half-goat kid, with a curly brown hair, acne, and barely noticeable facial hair. The third was a girl with curly blonde hair, a tan complexion, and stormy gray eyes.

Eyes.

I looked down at the shard of glass I still held in my hand. It had slipped in my grip, and I'd cut my fingers. Blood was running down the shard. The blood was red, but there was a strange black tinge about, around the edges of the drops, almost unnoticeable. I turned the shard, and looked at my eyes.

I wasn't sure what color my eyes normally were, but what color they were now startled me.

They were red. Almost bright red. As I looked closer, the red seemed to fade, until my eyes looked like a cross between grey, blue, and green. Hazel, I think, is the proper name for it.

"So, I'm a major source of contention for the guys who run the place, and I just beat the crap out of twelve people. Great start, genius." I whispered to myself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Second chapter. The plot is going to deepen as hints are dropped as to who the OC may really be.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 2

Puzzle Pieces

It had been nearly eight months since I'd shown up at Camp Half-Blood. My memory had barely improved, but my social prospects were far better than I'd dreamed, even from the outset. Taking down the kids of the war god single-handedly with your fists and a shard of glass apparently earns you points with just about everyone else. I'd gravitated most, however, to the three people I'd marked out in the crowd my first day. Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase. They'd gone on some world-saving quest, and come back heroes. I was happy for them. We'd kind of connected before they'd gone off, and we got in better terms when they came back. Luke's betrayal also gave us a focal relating point. I'd been stuck in the Hermes cabin because, despite Chiron's belief that I wasn't a demi-god or regular mortal(and my backing him up), no-one was sure what to do with me. I'd liked Luke. He'd seemed like a nice guy. Until he revealed his position as the right-hand guy of the greatest evil in the world.

The greatest evil in the world. Kronos. I thought about that, and it didn't seem right. Kronos was the greatest evil of the Greek world, but the actual entire world…I dove into my mind, searching for something, anything. I got blurry flashes. A battlefield. A red sky. A fiery sword coming down on me, an unassuming-looking man holding it. I don't know why, but the single instant in which I saw that man, I realized that whatever I once knew him to be, he was why I classed Kronos as Greek-world evil. This mystery man got the world-wide Greatest Evil title, for reasons I couldn't remember.

I turned, and checked my bag again. I'd been looking over atlases for the past week, and had come to a conclusion.

I needed to get to Russia. To a very specific point in Russia. I wasn't sure why, but when I looked at it, I felt as though, if I went there, followed this weird instinct in me that said 'Go to this very specific point in Russia.' I might find something. When I told Percy, Grover, Annabeth, and Chiron, about it, I'd made myself clear I was doing this on my own. I felt I had to. Not only because it seemed crazy, but because I had the feeling that if I did find something there, it wouldn't be anything good. I didn't tell them that last bit, though.

In case you've never been to Russia, or at least far-northern-many-miles-from-civilization Russia, let me give you some advice: It's cold. Like, 'the 9th Level of Hell according to Dante Alegheri isn't this cold' cold. So dress warm. Somehow, despite that, it didn't bother me. I ventured on. I pushed forward, toward that one point on the maps where I'd felt some unexplainable, crazy connection.

It took nearly two weeks to get there, after actually getting into Russia itself(which took a lot longer than I thought it would). When I finally arrived, I found what looked like the ruins of a prison, rotting skeletons hanging in chains in the remains of rooms. I couldn't quite understand it, but many looked like they had wings growing out of their backs. Others had talons, tails, and fangs. When I reached the center of the building, I saw a samurai sword in the middle of the room. The sword stuck up out of the ground, surrounded by what looked like black bloodstains.

I approached the sword, and felt a pain in my head. But not just in my head.

I felt it in my mind too.

I reached out, and touched the hilt of the sword.

I dropped to me knees and screamed in pain, as people and locations seemed to flood into my mind and try to find spots in my memory where they would fit. But those spots weren't there.

_Purgatory…_

"_You're crazy, Cas. You do this-" _I heard my voice.

Cas. Castiel. He was…my teacher. My partner. My friend.

"_I know. I'll die. Or worse. But that's not important now. One of us needs to get out of here, keep up the fight. Tell the others what we know. And I'm the only one who can fight them off long enough." _A voice said, insistently.

"_Damn it, Cas."_ I said.

"_Don't mourn me. I always knew it would end like this, somehow. Just promise me one thing. You make it through this, this great damn big mess the world's turned into, you take some time off. The balance has enough agents looking out for it for you to spend one lifetime off-duty. I had that chance once, and I let it slip away. Don't make that mistake. You find yourself in a life you want to live, you live it. You find yourself with someone you want to live that life with, try your hardest to live it with them. Don't spend your existence just going from battle to battle. All that does is get you here. What's the use fighting for life if we don't ever enjoy it? Now go. And live. For me."_ Castiel said, and I heard him draw a sword and start running. I remembered running in the other direction, leaving him to certain death.

I came out of my mind-relapse. Tears were streaming down my face. I looked at the sword. His sword. Castiel's. Ragnarok. That was what he called it. The Nordic term for the end of the world. Charming.

I got up from the icy ground, and wrapped my hands around Ragnarok's hilt.

I pulled at the sword.

I felt something in my head, going through my mind with an inhuman focus and purpose, and I realized it was Ragnarok. The sword was alive.

It was judging me. Seeing if I was worthy of using it. It sensed its master had sacrificed himself to save me. It sensed things about me I didn't know. It knew more about me than I did.

It deemed me worthy.

I pulled the blade from the scabbard, and looked at it.

The blade was made of black metal, but it seemed darker than black. Like, if I held it against the night sky with no streetlights and no stars, the blade would be darker than space. There were strange symbols on the side of the blade, carved in and colored gold. I turned it over, and saw the same symbols. They looked like any form of language humans would ever write in. I slid the blade back into the scabbard, and pulled the whole weapon from the ice.

I blacked out.

I woke up in a desert, surrounded by men pointing assault rifles at me. About one-hundred yards behind them, I saw a humvee with a huge mounted gun.

"You have got to be kidding me." I said. I felt Ragnarok clutched in my hand.

The men backed off slightly, maybe so they had clearer shots at me. They took aim with their rifles.

I moved faster than I thought possible.

I was on my feet, had Ragnarok out of its scabbard and was twirling it, blocking the bullets the men shot at me. I started turning the blade, putting more force behind each movement. I was deflecting the bullets now. Bouncing them off the sword into the people around me. The men around me dropped, till only one man was left in front of me and two were behind me. The man in front of me fired.

I cut the bullet in half, and turned to see the men behind me drop as the bullet halves went into their chests. The man in front of me fired one more shot, which I swatted back into his head.

The guy in the humvee fired at me with the mounted machine gun for about ten seconds before he realized all he was doing was wasting metal. He slid into the drivers' seat, and sped towards me.

I swung Ragnarok vertically, trying to catch the driver in the path of the sword stroke.

The humvee and driver slid into two pieces as the blade traveled through them.

I turned and looked behind me. The humvee was seamlessly sliced in two. I walked up to it. I'd cut it like warm butter.

"Holy shit." I whispered to myself. I noticed in the rearview mirror of the humvee that my eyes had gone red again.

I felt Ragnarok in my head again. It was…ecstatic at the combat and violence and death. It felt drunk on it all. Like it drew something from it.

I had a feeling this whole display of kick-awesomeness was due to Ragnarok.

Then I blacked out. Again.

I woke up on the surf of Long Island Sound, just at the border of Camp Half-Blood, Ragnarok clutched in my fist.

I was tired of blacking out. I was completely mystified by everything that had happened. But at least I had some leads. And a mental debate to have with myself as to what I should tell the others.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: This picks up after the end of Sea of Monsters, and the plot is going to thicken from here on out. Review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 3

I walked back from the Athena cabin, Ragnarok in hand. Despite the fact that demigods can only read Greek, there were quite a lot of books about other ancient languages written in English in the Athena cabin. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. They were kids of the goddess of wisdom, after all.

I'd spent nearly three weeks going through those books, comparing every last symbol, letter, ideogram, and bit of cuneform to the symbols etched onto Ragnarok. Three weeks and what felt like almost a few thousand languages later, and I couldn't find anything in any written language that even remotely resembled a single symbol from Ragnarok. I felt like my trip to Russia had just brought up more questions instead of answering them, like: How was I old enough to escape from a prison that looked like it had been abandoned for a few hundred years, when I was only thirteen years old? How does a sword know more about me than I do? How does that same sword let me block bullets and cut cars in half like a pro? What the crap is 'the balance'?

My grip on Ragnarok tightened till my hand hurt. I was angry. All I'd found were more questions, and the slight knowledge that some other guy had trained me and died to save me. So all I'd gotten was more questions and guilt. Both of which I did not need. Ragnarok dropped a subtle message of displeasure at my attitude in my head. The mental connection between the sword and me had developed to the point were we could practically have a conversation.

According to it, answers would come when they needed to. I didn't find answers in Russia because I wasn't supposed to. Not yet. It wasn't meant to be as simple as finding a sword(that wasn't even mine) in a dilapidated prison and instantly getting my memory back.

I told Ragnarok to keep its advice to itself.

I thought back to what had happened a couple nights ago. The revival of Thalia, and what I could tell meant serious trouble ahead. Much like Percy, Grover, and Annabeth, I'd somehow marked her out the second I saw her. But I'd also felt something else.

Ragnarok told me that I wasn't here to pick up girls.

I told it that I had no idea what I was here for, it wouldn't even give me a clue on that topic other than telling me to wait patiently, and that it wasn't like that at all.

At least, I thought it wasn't.

I walked to the practice arena. There were several straw dummies set up. I drew Ragnarok, and went to work.

Stab into the gut, and pull up diagonally. Circle around, and drive the blade into where the spine would be. Shove the blade into the head and yank to the side, tear the head off.

We worked in tandem. Ragnarok giving me tips and speeding me up.

Then, it told me to throw it. At the farthest practice dummy.

I hurled it as hard as I could, and Ragnarok left my hand like a missile, spearing the dummy a full thirty feet away, burying itself up to the hilt.

It told me to call it back.

I held out my hand, and focused.

Ragnarok shot out of the dummy, spinning through the air as it came back into my hand.

I accidently let Ragnarok slide out of my hand as I swung at another dummy. I turned the swing into a punch. When the punch landed, it landed with such force that the head of the dummy turned into a cloud of yellow powder. I hadn't even felt the slightest resistance. I kicked at the wooden post the dummy was attached to, and felt it crumble beneath my foot. I lifted my shoe up.

Brown powder. The only thing left.

"What the?" I asked out loud.

Ragnarok whispered in my head that there was more to me than I knew.

"You think?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, as I scooped Ragnarok off the ground, and jammed it back into its scabbard.

I started walking back to the Hermes cabin.

I thought about the prison in Russia, the skeletons with wings, and the ones with the talons, tails, and fangs. The black bloodstains around Ragnarok. The strange black tinge to my own blood. The way my eyes could change color. How I'd just turned hard wood into powder by stomping on it, and apparently telekinetically pulled a sword into my hand.

I realized that maybe I was asking the wrong question.

I was asking myself 'Who am I?'

I wondered if the question I should be asking was 'What am I?'


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: For a while now, the stories will be the placement of my OC in the events of the main series. At least, until I reach the point were Riordan hasn't written anything else, and the grandiose plans I hinted at in the notes of Chapter 1 start to come to fruition. Please, review and comment(that's how I know people are actually interested in this, so I know to keep writing more chapters). I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who am I?

Chapter 4

I watched from the edge of the woods as Dr. Thorn tore Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia a new one. I knew they were all good at fighting monsters, but Thorn had them outclassed and dead to rights. Even if he had to bring in a gunship to do it.

I felt my hand slide onto Ragnarok's hilt.

I could feel its anticipation of the coming fight. It knew we'd be taking on an opponent that would be a challenge. A true test. A real battle.

I wanted to tell it to chill out, but I was almost as excited as it was. I paused for a second, and wondered if maybe Ragnarok was messing with my head.

It told me it wasn't.

I told it that the word of sword that wouldn't tell me what it knew about me wasn't much of a guarantee.

It told to shut up and put down the manticore, or all my friends(and my crush) would get killed.

For once, we truly agreed on something. But I told it again that it wasn't like that.

I yanked Ragnarok out of its scabbard, and threw it like a missile, just like we'd practiced.

Ragnarok shot into Thorn's throat.

I ran out of the woods, and charged Thorn.

Raagnarok whispered in my mind to come to it.

I told it that was what I was doing.

It told me that it meant something else.

I stopped running, focused, and pictured myself where Ragnarok was.

Suddenly, I was holding its hilt, face-to-face with Thorn.

I yanked Ragnarok out of the Thorn's throat, and slashed him along the stomach.

He tried to nail me with a swipe from his clawed paw-hands, but I whirled around him.

And accidentally looked right into the spotlight on the gunship.

Thorn took his chance and sucker-clawed me into the wall against the sea edge. Then he shot his spines at me.

One hit me in my right shoulder, and went partway through it.

The second scrapped along my side, grazing my ribs.

The third went right into my middle, somehow missing my stomach and about every other major vein and organ.

I don't how I did it, but I stood up.

"That the best you can do, pal?" I asked.

Thorn responded by putting another spine in me, this time in my chest.

He charged me, and knocked me over the wall.

I couldn't tell what exactly happened after that, as I was a little preoccupied with trying to keep a grip on Ragnarok(which I'd jammed into the cliff face) to keep from plunging to my death, but I heard a hunting horn, Thorn screaming like a stuck pig, and then I saw him dive off of the edge and disappear, Annabeth on his back.

I heard a conversation above me.

"Even if she's gone, we still need to check for him." I heard Percy say.

"If he fell, surely you would feel his presence in the sea below." A voice like a young girl said.

"Maybe he's holding onto a branch, or something?" I didn't know the next voice, but it was a boy's, so I assumed it was Nico.

"We cannot know for sure."

"Oh, for crying out loud. Just look over the damn edge already!" I yelled.

Percy poked his head over.

"You're alive!" He yelled.

"Don't sound so surprised. Care to help me out?" I called up to him.

After the use of a lot of rope, and tugging, I was back on solid ground. Even though I had three poisonous spines sticking out of me(one of which at what had to be a lethal spot), I felt pretty good.

I followed Percy, Grover, and Nico into the forest.

Grover tried to insist that he needed to call in camp to get me to Apollo-spawned healers as fast as possible, but I told him not to worry. I braced myself against the back of a tree, grabbed the spine in my gut, and slowly pulled.

It was a lot longer than I'd thought.

I grabbed the one in my shoulder, and pulled that one out, finishing with the one in my chest.

I was breathing heavily by then.

Percy passed me the nectar canteen. I took a few quick swallows. It seemed to help.

"Whoa. What are you?" Nico asked.

I smirked.

"I'll let you know when I find out, kid." I replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: we're still in Titan's Curse territory here, and will probably stay there for another chapter or two. This is quite shorter. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who am I?

Chapter 5

We all sat around the ping pong table in the rec room. Everyone was talking business. I decided to keep out of the conversation, until it reached a point where I would need to cut in.

Thalia and Grover volunteered to help, then Percy jumped up, and things got a little heated. I figured I'd jump in now.

"I agree with you, Percy." I said. "I think you should be on this. If I didn't feel that way, I'd volunteer, but-"

"No. Help from either of you would be unwelcome. I'll not cross the country and face dangers in the company of boys." Zoe said.

"Why not? 'Fraid you might like it?" I asked.

Zoe's eyes flashed murderously.

I yanked Ragnarok out of its scabbard and chopped the tip off of the arrow she shot at me.

I started to twirl the blade, and caught the next arrow on it mid-twirl. I spun the blade around, and launched the arrow back at her, cutting through the bowstring.

"Okay. Maybe that was a little out of line." I said.

"Y'think?" Grover asked.

I was silent for another five seconds.

"Screw it." I said, and walked out of the rec room. "Just don't be surprised when I show up." I called back.

I stood in front of the creek looking at my reflection in the water. My eyes had shifted out of red-death mode, but that wasn't what was I was paying attention to.

I was looking at a specific spot on my neck.

I pulled down the collar of my coat, and got a better look.

I'd first noticed it about a week after I'd found Ragnarok in Russia. What looked like a patch of scorched skin on my neck. It seemed to spread as time passed.

Looking at it now, I saw what it was. It was some sort of cross between a tattoo and a brand. The image of some sort of scaled animal, like a dragon, but not quite, devouring its own tail, encircling the planet as it did so.

I got the feeling that it meant something important. The biggest clue as to who I was, what I was. But I couldn't remember what it meant. And I didn't even have enough context about myself to try to interpret what it could have meant.

In a sudden burst of anger, I yanked Ragnarok out and stabbed it into the water, destroying the reflection.


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: I was planning to show the OC follow the gang into the Garden of the Hesperides, and call Atlas a push-over, but I decided against it(let me know if you'd like to see that.) So we jump to the near-end of Titan's Curse, on Olympus. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who am I?

Chapter 6

I knew Percy had gone to Olympus when he'd retrieved the master bolt two years ago, but he'd never said anything about it being so impressive.

Despite that, I got the feeling I'd seen places just as grand as Olympus before, even if I didn't remember them or even understood how that would be possible.

I followed Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia into the council chamber.

My mind kept slipping back to the fight on top of . Percy holding the sky. Atlas trying to put his javelin in my head. Thalia's tears as she fought(and hopefully killed) Luke.

Ragnarok told me to not let my mind wander now, of all times.

"Shut up." I whispered, thinking out loud.

"What?" Percy asked.

"Not you. Don't worry, it's nothing. Just thinking out loud." I replied.

I watched as Posiedon and Zeus defended their kids from preventative measures, how they both looked embarrassed at the praise from their parents.

I watched Artemis come back from conferring with Zeus, and ask Thalia to serve as her new lieutenant.

I watched her pledge herself to Artemis.

I managed to keep my composure when she hugged me.

I stood out on a balcony, looking down at New York City. The party was still going on. After everything that had happened tonight, I didn't feel like joining in.

Thalia. Damn.

_I seem to recall you telling me multiple times 'It's not like that at all.'_ Ragnarok whispered to me.

"Shut up." I said.

_Well, I might be completely misinterpreting this foul, sorrowful mood of yours, but-_

"Just shut the hell up."

I turned around, and saw a man in a dark trench coat walking out of the council chamber. He was wearing some sort of helmet, or mask.

My heart nearly stopped.

He had a patch sewn into the shoulder of his jacket. The patch was a dragon swallowing its tail, encircling the world as it ate itself.

The patch matched the brand on my neck.

I trailed him for about ten minutes, before he went down an alley and I lost track of him.

I heard a strange mechanical breathing behind me.

I turned around and saw the guy standing right behind me. He had two long knives, one in each hand. He slashed one across my arm, making me drop Ragnarok. He slid his other knife into his coat, grabbed me by the throat with his left hand, and lifted me right off my feet.

"Why are you following me?" He asked. His voice sounded partly fake. Like it was half-synthesized. Now that we were face-to-face, I could see he was wearing what looked like some sort of gas-mask, but it was way too fancy and advanced-looking to be something mortals could have built.

"I wasn't." I said.

"Bullshit." He stabbed his other knife into the alley wall, barely an inch from my face. "Why are you following me?" He asked again. There was a more menacing tone to his voice now.

I called Ragnarok from its scabbard, and shoved it through his left arm. I punched him in the face. He kicked me back against the wall, and pulled Ragnarok out of his arm. He didn't bleed from the wound. Instead, dust poured from the hole in his arm, which quickly sealed itself.

"Holy shit." I said.

He just looked at me, and at Ragnarok.

"Okay look, I was following you because that patch on your coat, I've got a brand mark just like it." I said. I yanked down the neck of my coat, and showed him. "I have no idea who I am or what I am, and I was hoping maybe you knew."

He didn't say anything at first. He just stared at me. Then he shook his head.

"Well, at least we know it worked now." He said. He turned and walked out of the alley.

"Hey. HEY! You know what worked?" I called. I ran after him.

I found him standing on a nearby edge. He was holding two fingers to his temple.

"Sorry, but I just got an important call. This little chat is going to have to wait." He gave me a somewhat uncaring wave, and jumped off. I ran to the edge and looked over, but I didn't see him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: We're jumping straight into The Last Olympian territory cause I couldn't think of any meaningful way to drop the OC in Battle of the Labryinth, or the space between books. This is going to be practically all OC, with little interaction with any other characters. We also see that the OC is a total badass. Just read on. You'll see what I'm talking about. This is the final pre-written chapter, so future updates will be far more sporadic in terms of their timing. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who am I?

Chapter 7

I looked at a giant, poison-spewing, winged, pink sow. I almost wasn't sure if this was serious. A flying female pig. That could belch poison.

I felt like saying that I had now seen it all, but I knew in the back of my head that I'd seen stranger stuff(like the blurry image of a giant rock-lava spider that had surfaced in my head in the last forty-eight hours.)

I heard Percy volunteer to take care of it.

"Hang back here, Percy. You're the toughest guy we've got right now, and I think you're needed here. I'll take this one."

"Are you crazy?" Thalia yelled at me, and for a second, I felt like I could-

_Don't get distracted, boy._

Shut up. I thought.

"Probably, but I'm pretty sure I can take it." I tightened my grip on Ragnarok."Keep the coffee hot. I doubt I'll be ten minutes."

I ran at the sow as it landed, with its back to me. I leapt at it, and drove Ragnarok through its neck. It took off into the heart of the city, screeching and belching clouds of poison as I slid down its back and nearly fell off.

I clawed my way back up its back and onto its neck.

I reached around, and forced my hands into its mouth, griping the two halves of its jaw with one palm each.

"Open wide!" I yelled, and yanked in opposite directions. I heard a loud cracking sound, and was suddenly blinded by a torrent of poisonous fumes that poured out of the sow's broken mouth.

Snapping open the jaw of something that breathes poison: not the best idea.

The sow crashed onto a rooftop nearby a landline pole.

I got a crazy idea.

I yanked Ragnarok out of the sow's neck, jumped to the pole, and hacked off one of the cables. Amazingly, electricity sparked from the end of it. I jumped back to the roof, and charged the sow. I shoved the cable into its face, dragging the sparking end along its eyes, burning them and fusing the lids shut.

The sow screamed in pain and rage.

I jumped onto its back, and tugged at its ears. I had another crazy idea.

I forcibly directed the sow towards Elis Island. And the Statue of Liberty.

I guided it up, and pulled back, aiming its chest at one of the points on the Statue's head.

I leaped into the air just before the sow impaled itself on the middle point of the Statue's head.

Alien confidence and power surged through me. I grabbed the sow's head, and started pulling.

Fifteen minutes later, I was walking right through Kronos' forces, holding my grisly trophy for all to see. When I reach the front of his army, and the man himself, I stopped.

"Kronos!" I yelled. "Is this all you got?"

I held up the head of the clazmonian sow, with its broken jaw, burned eyes, and tongue that I cut out for good measure after I tore the head off, the flopping tendon and ripped appearance of the skin of its neck making it clear that I'd used no bladed shortcuts.

I tossed the head contemptuously at Kronos' feet.

"Just between you and me, old man, you're going to need something a lot better than that. And I'm going to need that back, when this is over. Ripping off the head of an unkillable, undefeated monster with my bare hands? That's gotta get me into Guinness, but I'm going to need some proof."


	8. Chapter 8

**Note: We're moving straight into Heroes of Olympus territory now, starting with a quick little filler bit around the time frame between The Lost Hero and Son of Neptune(partly so I can get back into writer mode, and get in some actual character development in-between bouts of OC ass-kicking) As always, please review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated .**

Who Am I?

Chapter 8

I sat at the edge of the dock, Ragnarok held loosely in my left hand, thinking about everything that had happened lately. Jason, the reveal of the Giants, the supposed Roman camp, and the big switcheroo between Jason and Percy, and the highly probable loss of memory for each of them.

I felt sorry for Jason. Waking up somewhere mysterious with no memory. I could relate. And to think the same thing was happening to Percy. We weren't incredibly close friends, but we were friends, regardless.

My mind started drifting. Jason said he'd ran into the Hunters on his quest. Which meant he must've-

_Are you still harping on about her?_ I felt the admonishing whisper of Ragnarok cut through my mind like a razor.

"Yeah, I'm still harping on about her." I responded.

_Why? What good does such behavior achieve, other than to induce despair and distract you from your duty?_

"My duty. What 'duty' are you even talking about? What do you know about me that makes this so damn annoying to you?"

_I cannot tell you._

"Then shut the hell up about it until you can."

_I cannot tell you explicitly. Not yet. It is not my place. I can show you some things now. I believe we are far enough along our path._

"What are you talking about?"

_Let me show you._

Suddenly, that pain I'd felt in Russia, the feeling that information was flooding my mind, trying to find where it fit and finding nothing, hit me so hard I felt like I was going to black out. I stumbled forward and fell off the dock into the lake. My vision turned black.

Then I started to see things; That same image of the unassuming man with the flaming sword. I could see him more clearly now. The sword was burning with black fire, but it looked cold, somehow. Desperately, my mind tried to remember his name, but it couldn't. The sword swung down at me.

The blurry shot of the rock-lava spider I'd seen two days before I'd killed the clazmonian sow was next on the list. This time, my mind found the name. "The Phantom. A Lord of the Legions. General of Dark Armies."

The skeletons in the prison in Russia, where I'd found Ragnarok, hit me next. The images focused on the wings, the fangs, the tails, the claws, the black blood, the color that upon close inspection, looked so very similar to the back tinge my own blood had. I refocused on the cells of the winged skeletons; the walls were spattered with old bloodstains, this blood a layered mix of deep gold and white and red, the colors faded with the passing of centuries. A prison I had escaped from, abandoned and destroyed for what I know knew was somehow three-hundred years, and yet I was only sixteen, or seventeen. I'd forgotten exactly what my age was. I didn't care. I knew the focus on the particular parts of the skeletons' anatomy was the biggest bit of the puzzle, but i couldn't even guess at what they were.

Castiel's last words came back to me. _The balance has enough agents looking out for it._

What were they, the balance and the agents?

_I cannot answer those questions. You must remember those answers yourself._ Ragnarok was speaking, almost narrating, now. _I can tell you something that might help you find your friend. Something you already know, but have just forgotten._

I woke up underwater, and hurriedly scrambled to the surface. Breaking through, I felt the last bit Ragnarok felt generous enough to share with me; the image of an overpass, a door leading to tunnel, that led to a miniature Rome.

I knew where I had to go. And I knew I had to go alone. I also knew something else; those agents Cas had talked about, I knew I somehow knew them, whoever they were


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: Now we're right around the early area of Son of Neptune and I'm just warning you now, things may be discussed that are not in any of the chapters, but that is somewhat intentional on my part(partly because what you think up is probably better than what I could write, and because I don't feel like writing those things, to be frank). This jumps around throughout the first five or seven chapters of Son of Neptune, and includes so much content when compared to previous chapters simply because putting everything here in separate chapters would be an unnecessary waste of time, bandwidth, and computer memory. Also, sorry if this Note comes off as a bit bitter; I blame the fact that I'm writing this during exams week. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

I held ever-so-slightly back from Hazel and Percy, so Nico wouldn't see me. I waited for a good point to jump into the conversation, and reflected on the days' events. I'd dove off a cliff and rode a half-dead gorgon down onto a highway. Afterwards, I'd jumped onto one and decapitated it above the Little Tiber. I'd had to resist cutting that smirk off of Octavian's face, though Ragnarok had told me it would gladly claim it had acted on its own. I told it no-one would believe that, tempting an offer as it was. Looking back at Hazel, Percy, and Nico, I could see that they were starting to wrap things up.

I walked up the small incline, and waved.

"Hey, Nico." I called up. I smiled and walked up to him, holding out my hand.

He just looked at me and didn't take it.

"You object to shaking my hand?"

"You two know each other?" Hazel asked.

"You could say that." Nico said.

"He tried to kill me, about three months ago. Or was it four?" I asked Nico.

"Four. And-"

"You're not about to say you're sorry again, are you? Come on, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't blame you for that?" I lifted my hand and gave him a quick slap on the shoulder. "How's your leg healing up?"

"Good. Running is a little hard."

"Wait, what did you do to his leg?" Percy asked.

"I kinda…kicked the tendon out of place."

"You what?"

"Hey, he was trying to kill me. And he had his sword in my chest at the time. I'd call that self-defense."

"Why was he trying to kill you?"

"Mistook me for an Underworld escapee."

"Why would he-"

"It was a mistake, that's all." Nico mumbled, face red.

"Hey, really. Stop feeling guilty about it. You didn't know what I was. Hell, I don't know either. Can't blame you."

A few hours later, I was sitting behind Percy, who was standing in front of the assembled cohort. Poor him. I watched Hazel step up for him. I realized I liked her. She was good, loyal, tough. Frank too.

Then my name was called.

I got up and walked to where Percy had stood.

"I attempted to discern the will of the gods regarding this one," Octavian said, indicating me with a flourish and that damn smirk again "but they have nothing to say about him. Let me ask you, do you seek to join the Legion?"

"I would be honored, but I have to decline."

"Why?"

"Because I believe I am already sworn to serve some other group." I yanked down my coat collar, revealing the brand. "And based on the experience I had with one of the members, they wouldn't take kindly to me swearing loyalty to the remnants of Rome." I could tell that last bit didn't sit well, so I decided to rectify things. "I can tell you that so long as our goals remain the same, I'll stand by you. Is that acceptable?"

I watched Reyna and Octavian huddle up and whisper furiously for about a minute.

"Your terms are acceptable. However, you must serve alongside a cohort, so we have a way to keep track of you, if nothing else."

"Agreed. Fifth taken?" I asked.

"Why the Fifth?"

"New guys oughta stick together."

"So, you didn't join because these other guys you used to work for might get mad about it?" Hazel asked.

"Trust me. I don't remember much about them, but if the one guy I met is any indication, they aren't the kind of people you want to piss off." I sipped my drink, lounging on the couch and ducking as plates flew over my head.

"What made you figure that?" Percy asked.

"Well, for starters, the guy lifted me about two feet into the air with one arm and nearly stabbed me in the face, just because he figured out I was following him. He also didn't bleed like ordinary people do."

"What do you mean?"

"I stabbed him in the arm, and he bled dust. And the wound closed in about five seconds. Then he alluded to some secret plan involving me, and jumped off the top of the building we were standing on, at which point he vanished into thin air."

"Yeah, that does not sound like the kind of guy to make angry." Hazel said.

"So, where'd you get that sword? I've never seen anything like it." Percy asked.

"In a dilapidated prison in Russia." I said. I slid Ragnarok slightly out of its scabbard, and looked at the red script on the blade. "It's not mine. Used to belong to my old mentor."

"Used to belong to him?"

"He's dead. Been dead a long time. Died saving me, in fact." We all stayed silent for a few moments. "And by the way, I'm not certain that I ever stopped working for them." I said to Hazel.

I was the only one in the Fifth cohort who was out of formation and not wearing any armor.

"You positive you don't want to put something on, or grab another weapon?" Frank asked.

"Trust me, Frank. If I did put armor on, or used anything other than Ragnarok here, this would be incredibly unfair to the other cohorts."

"Are you serious?"

"Just watch."

"Open wide, loser!" Someone yelled down at me. Looking up, I saw a blast from one of the water cannons coming straight at me.

"Oh crap." I yanked Ragnarok out and jammed it into the ground, holding onto the grip as tight as I could.

Then the water hit me, and I felt like I was breaking.

I heard distorted shouting, and the water stopped.

I was in the middle of a extremely tiny crater gouged by the cannon, and every bone I had, save my skull, felt out of place. I decided to rectify that.

I just focused on pulling everything back into proper place. I heard lots of sucking and grinding and was on my feet before I knew it.

"Gonna be sore in the morning." I said to myself


	10. Chapter 10

**Note: Right into the near-middle of Son of Neptune we go! For a memory breakdown, and more mystery.**

**Please, review and comment(And criticize, if you have a few). I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated material.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 10

An Amazon hand shoved me roughly from behind, and I heard Ragnarok berate me mentally for getting caught so easily.

"Just shut up, will you?" I said, accidentally thinking out loud. "oh, not you," I said, seeing the murderous looks the Amazons were giving me "I was talking to my sword."

The one standing behind me spun me by my shoulder and punched me in the stomach. I dropped to my knees in front of one of their storage shelves. "Picture of hospitality, you are." I said, smirking up at her, and received a swift kick to my face. My head slapped the floor on its left side(my face, not the floor).

"Stop!" Hazel yelled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something familiar.

I scrambled up and pointed towards a large glass case, propped against a far wall. "What's that?" I said.

"Why do you care?" Kinzie asked.

"Cause whatever's in that case, I think I recognize. I've had…memory problems for the last six years, and whenever I've encountered something from my past, I've gotten a bit of my life back. So, please, may I see that case?" I could see they looked skeptical. I sank to my knees and clasped my hands. "I'm begging on my knees here. I'll come quietly, won't cause any trouble afterwards. Just…please." I put my heart into that bit, and they took it.

They marched me to the case. Now that I was in front of it, i could see what was inside: a large sword, like a slightly small, old-school broadsword, broken into two pieces, covered in black script along the blade and hilt.

"Where'd you get this?" I asked.

"Some of our scouts found it in Vietnam in the 60s." Kinzie said.

"I….I think this was mine." I said, uncertain, but somehow subconsciously positive.

I reached out, and touched the glass separating me and the pieces of the sword.

A searing pain shot through my head, burning my mind. I dropped to the ground, fairly certain I was screaming but too out of it to care.

Words, terms, places, people, images, sensations flooded my head. This was worse than when I'd first found Ragnarok, or when Ragnorak had sent me on a forced introspective look at what few memories I had.

I heard someone babbling. "The Lightbringer. Last chance. Upset the balance. The Third War. Third War. Of Creation."

I realized it was me.

I drew back my hand, curled it into a fist and slammed it into the case, breaking some of it off into my fist to try and clear my head. It did the trick.

I pulled myself off the floor, and turned around. Everyone was staring at me with looks of horror.

"What?" I asked. Then I felt something dribbling down my face, like tears, but not quite. I turned and looked the reflection of my face.

I was bleeding from every hole in my head. Eyes, ears, nose, mouth. The works.

"Well that's just going to ruin my day." I said.

"Okay, seriously, what was that?" Percy asked me our cell several minutes later.

"I don't know."

"Is it always that…"

"Painful? Scary-as-hell? Freaky?"

"Yeah, any of those would work."

"Yes. Every time. And if I could actually explain why they happen like that, I'd tell you. But I can't." I said forcefully.

"So, get anything new?" Frank asked me.

"I think," I stopped and thought. Not all of what I had remembered was fully in place or focus, but enough of it was that I could make some educated guesses. "I think I died."

"Hang on!" I yelled as Percy hooked up the chariot rig to Arion. "There's something I need to grab!"

I turned, ran back, and leapt over the nearest railing. I made my way back to the glass case containing what I was now sure was my old sword, my original sword. i smashed the case and grabbed the two pieces. I gazed at my reflection on the upper half of the blade. For a second, I wasn't looking at myself, or at least myself as I was used to seeing; I was looking at someone with ash-gray skin, burning red eyes, swirling black hair, burn scars and a glowing, flowing tattoo going down his torso and arms, and what looked like the silhouette of giant raven wings extending behind him. Then the image vanished, and i saw only myself, my eyes turned red, a bright, deep red. A burning red. A glowing red.

"Welcome back." I said to myself, knowing I was using that phrase prematurely


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: Sorry for the big wait between this and chapter 10, but I've been recuperating from exams and sucked back into Red vs Blue. So, we've got intrigue and yet more mystery to come on top of Hubbard Glacier. Enjoy. Please, review and comment(and criticize, if you've got any). I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 11

I pulled myself off the ground as Frank and Hazel sped away, a giant tied to Arion, Percy probably halfway down to the bay. I grabbed the two fragments of my old sword.

"So, you've got that back at last." A voice said behind me.

I spun around and saw a deathly pale man, a flowing, decorative scar going along his nose and cheeks. He had gleaming orange eyes and flowing, stringy blond hair. Black and red clothes adorned him, held in place with black leather straps. A tiny-handled spear and scimitar-like sword were belted on either hip. His black lips were half-smirk, half-expression-of-grief.

"Not quite as useful as it once was, but I'm sure you'll find a way to rectify that." He said. His words flowed from his lips in slightly oily, but beautiful tones.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Well, they really did a job on you, didn't they?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, please. You can guess what I'm talking about now, if you've found that. Go one, take a stab."

I thought for a minute. For some reason, I listened to him.

"I was…killed." I said, uncertainly, not wanting to hear myself say it.

"Well, gold star for you."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Oh, getting close, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to-"

"Guess you either don't have that much back in you yet," he started walking round me in a circle, "Or you don't want to accept the truth."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"That's right, I haven't."

"Are you going to?"

"Probably not. I didn't come here to tell you who I am. I came to tell you what you will be."

"And what is that?"

"A dead man, so long as you stay with these…Romans." He wrinkled his nose and spoke the last bit disdainfully, like he was talking about a bunch of gross little pets he had no choice but to take care of. "No matter how this little fight today ends for them, their fate will be unchanged. I'm warning you now, to honor what we once had."

"What we once had? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"It's not my place to tell you that, just yet. I'm giving you a warning; stay with them, they'll all die, and you'll die with them."

"Like hell they will, and like hell I will."

"See, you keep skirting around this issue here-"

"You say we used to have something, but I'm guessing that's long over, whatever it was. You're just warning me cause you don't want me to die there. You want me to die someplace else, in some other way."

He started clapping.

"Well, check out the big brain on you. I've given you the warning, agains't the wishes of my superiors, but I cannot make you follow it. Only you can do that."

There was a flash of light, a sound of crackling fire, and he was gone.

**End Note: When picturing this new arrival, just picture Prince Nuada from Hellboy 2, with less Elf makeup and more kinda-vampire makeup.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Note: We are now at the point where anything is possible. We've reached the point where nothing has come from Riordan regarding what happens. In case this isn't clear, we're post-Son-of-Neptune-ending. So, things are going to get crazy from here on out, as I can now start bringing in more interesting elements with absolutely zero restraints, as I am now writing beyond the confines of the published series. As always, please review and comment(and criticize, if you have any criticisms). I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 12

I sat in the middle of the city as Reyna and Octavian grilled Annabeth, Jason, Piper, and Leo with questions. I could see Percy clearly from where I was sitting, and I could tell it was taking all his willpower to not grin like an idiot, or run down and wrap his arms around Annabeth. I couldn't surpress a smirk at that thought.

Then, I got a weird feeling, like something was watching me, and waiting for my guard to drop completely. I thought I heard a low, almost silent whirring sound a few feet behind me.

I decided to act casual, as though I hadn't noticed anything.

I thought I heard the sound drift closer towards me.

I got up and approached Octavian.

i tapped him on the shoulder.

"Could I borrow that for about fifty seconds?" I asked quietly, pointing at the knife he always carried.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Cause I left my sword with Terminus, and I think I'm going to need something that can piece flesh quite soon. As in, 'my-life-might,depend-on-it' need, and 'immediately' soon."

Octavian gave a look that would have evaporated water, for all the malice and skepticism it contained, and handed me his knife.

The whirring noise was right behind me now.

I spun and swung my arm, knocking against something hard and invisible. I pushed it down, realizing it was an armored forearm. A burst of light followed by a hole blasted in the ground at the end of where said arm would be told me that this thing had some sort of gun on it.

I stabbed the knife forward, burying it where the elbow would be if I could have seen it.

There was a clatter and I saw a small pistol on the ground.

I yanked the knife out, black blood covering it and oozing from the stab wound.

Somehow I knew what I was up against. Even if I didn't fully remember what it was, I knew how to beat it.

I punched out where the shoulder would be, a satisfying contact and sound of stumbling meaning I'd spun my assailant around. I swept the knife down, cutting through invisible metal and circuitry.

The after-image of a large, armored soldier flickered, then fully appeared.

I swept up the pistol and blew its kneecaps out.

I tossed the knife back to Octavian, his face gaping in an expression so comical I wished I'd had a camera.

"Thanks." I said.

I walked towards my would-be assassin, who had turned itself over and was moaning in strange mechanical noises. I crouched down and held the gun barrel in front of where its face would be iif its helmet were off.

"Here's how this works; I ask you a question, you answer the question. You don't answer the question, we've got a problem. And if we've got a problem, you've got a problem. Understand?"

It responded with more clicks, moans, and sparking sounds, but I somehow understood that it meant 'Yes.'

"Alright, good. Now, who sent you here?"

It remained silent.

I titled the gun down and fired into its gut.

"Apparently, I wasn't clear enough on the rules. You didn't answer the question; we now have a problem. Which means you now have a problem, said problem being you bleeding to death from gunshot wounds." I fired again. "Feeling chattier now?"

It made sounds that I could instantly recognize as laughter.

I decided to let that slide.

Then it made a few more sounds, ones that, when I realized what they meant, chilled me.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to repeat that." I said.

It did.

It had been sent by the Phantom, leading a strike force at the behest of Astaroth to wipe out the Roman camp and put me down before I got going again.

Astaroth. The Phantom. My mind, newly exercised and informed by recovering the fragments of my old sword, could place those names.

"You really pushing you're luck, giving me crap like that." I told it. "It can't be that big."

It started laughing again. Legitimately laughing, because it knew I wished deep down that I'd never asked.

I started to walk away, then turned and shot it in the head.

"Reyna, tell me there is some sort of city-wide evacuation code or procedure for everyone here who can't fight."

"There is, but-"

"Give it. Now. We're about to get-"

A small streak of light shot through my chest.

I dropped to the ground and heard screaming.


	13. Chapter 13

**Note:We're going in straight from the end of the previous chapter. Things are about to get intense. As always, please review and comment(and criticize, if you find any problems or errors). I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 13

Now, for most people, getting shot through the chest is an automatic death sentence. You can't really get up from that.

Guess I was the exception that proves the rule.

I was rolling off to one side before I fully hit the ground. I concentrated, and was rewarded with Ragnarok and the wrapped-up fragments of my old old sword speeding into my hands and onto my back, respectively, followed by a distant shriek of rage from Terminus.

I went on auto-pilot, running towards the direction of the shot, twirling Ragnarok to block what were now dozens of similar beams of light, firing my stolen pistol. This all seemed…familiar. Like I'd done things almost exactly like this a million times before, even if I didn't remember doing them specifically, my body remembered, and it knew what to do.

The shots were coming in closer now. The….necrophytes. Yeah, that was what they were called. The necrophytes were advancing, still cloaked, but not that that helped them when they were announcing where they were with gunfire.

I took a second, and lined up my shots.

I fired the pistol rapidly, emptying whatever passed for a clip in the thing.

The cloaking systems switched of automatically as the users died, or I guess, re-died.

Twelve necrophytes dropped to the ground in a perfect semi-circle.

"Well, that was easy." Percy said.

"No, it's not over. That one," I gestured back in the direction of the one I'd questioned "Said that one of the big-shots was leading this, and none of those guys is him."

"Define 'big-shot'." Leo asked.

"If my memory is correct, we're going to be looking at a giant lava-spider."

"A what?" Annabeth asked.

"A giant lava-spider. Actually, giant volcanic-spider might be a better term, cause it's kind got rock for skin, and lava for just about everything that isn't skin. I'm surprised he hasn't shown himself. He's usually not this subtle."

I really should have known better than to say that.

Because six seconds later, I was suspended twenty feet in the air by a flaming stinger composed of what felt like hellfire. And that stinger was attached to the Phantom.

The stinger pushed up through my midsection, then up my throat and out of my mouth. I saw tiny glints as the tip shot out.

Then I was slammed into the ground, cracking the pavement, and watched as Ragnarok landed point down in front of Phantom, every bit as ugly and evil as I remembered, and the fragments of my original sword land at my feet, along with what looked like two tiny bits that I guess were somehow stuck in me.

I slowly blacked out, and I could only conclude that I had finally taken a hit I couldn't get back up from.

Then I started to see things.

I was looking at Manhattan, watching as the buildings crumbled, the sky rained fire, the people devoured by large shadowy winged creatures.

I saw Mount Olympus, the original one. It was burning, falling to pieces against a red sky forked with black lightning, lit by an eclipse. My friends, all of them; Percy, Annabeth, Grover, Jason, Frank, Hazel, Leo, Piper, Thalia, all fighting one last desperate battle agains't things that weren't the giants. Things that made the giants look like pushovers. And I knew that even when they lost, when they died, their pain wouldn't end. They'd be brought back and tortured, somehow, in some way.

I knew all of that would come to pass if I let myself die.

I opened my eyes.

I could see all the pieces of my old sword. I saw them slowly slide towards each other.

I focused, trying to speed the process up.

I felt power surge through me. I felt my mind clear, memory flood back in.

The fragments started glowing and were lined up in place.

I focused even harder.

The sword came together and flew into my hand.

There was an explosion of light and I was on my feet, the gaping hole in my body healed completely, my body tingling with energy.

I looked down at my sword, back together.

I saw my reflection flicker, getting a few shots of the ash-skinned, red-tattooed, wing-silhouetted being that I was no suspecting was me.

I turned and smiled at the Phantom.

What happened next was a blur, but the next thing I knew, I was standing next to the Phantom's severed head, which was still barely alive and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

I tapped my sword on his head to get his attention.

"Hey, asswipe. You live long enough to get downstairs, tell them to send someone just a bit more impressive next time." i said.

Then he disintegrated into a puddle of wet ash


	14. Chapter 14

Note:** Now, we're right in Rome, simply because all the stuff I thought up in terms of middle ground from the last chapter wouldn't work out. So, to get everyone up to speed on what has happened but I couldn't figure out how to get down: The gang(OC included) is in Rome, accompanied by the Hunters. Said gang also just pulled Nico out of the fire. Some of the giants are on the march in Rome to stop the gang. The OC saw a giant warship in the sky that only he could see. The Doors of Death have been found, but the sacrifice of one of the team is required to get them shut again. Sorry all of this has to come in the form of the 'Note' section. I formally apologize for my poor skills. As always, please review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 14

"No." I said.

"'No.' What?" Percy asked.

"'No.' As in, 'No, no-one here is dying just to shut those damn Doors.'" I said. "And if anyone is dying, it's me."

"What? Why?"

" Because that's what I do, Percy. Get myself killed for noble causes so much better people can live their lives in peace and relative happiness. I've got that much back now that I know that's what my life has been."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"We don't have time to discuss this. We've got giants breathing down our necks and a big-ass warship waiting up there for this little war we're in to end so they can clean up what's left and take the rubble for themselves. Now, way I see it, we've got the unique opportunity to kill two birds with one stone here."

"What are you talking about?"

I walked over and put two of my fingers on his forehead. Then I grabbed it and twisted it in the direct of the ship.

"You see now, Percy?" I asked.

"Oh, gods."

"Yeah. Big-ass warship, that's loaded with stuff. I get up there, kill everything on it, I can probably use it to kill the giants."

"I thought giants can only be defeated by a god and demigod working together." Jason said.

"In case you haven't noticed, the rules are kinda meaningless these days Jason. There anything about giant volcano-spiders and creepy-evil-tech-warships in any Greek or Roman myths?"

"No, but-"

"But nothing. Now get back to the Argo 2. This doesn't go smoothly, you're gonna need to make a quick exit."

"We're not leaving-" Percy started to say.

I turned and punched him flat.

"Pick him up and get the hell out of here!" I yelled.

I turned around, pulled out my stolen pistol from the necrophyte from Camp Jupiter, and fired at the warship. I knew they'd detect the shots, and that they'd send something down to get me once they saw who I was.

I needed a ride up, what can I say?

Getting on the ship wasn't all that smooth. I had to jump from a rooftop, stab through a cockpit, and I nearly got the fighter that was sent to kill me crashed before I got into the pilot's seat, but from that point, it was smooth sailing.

Then, I got on the ship itself.

And everything went to pieces.

Memory flashes kept hitting me, left me open. I barely made it out of the hangar, with all the holes and cuts I had all over myself. I knew then I couldn't go with the original plan.

Much more drastic action was required.

I slumped against the pilot's seat in the cockpit of the warship, bleeding from just about every bit of my body. I had a feeling I was out of practice. Or maybe the guys on this ship were just that good.

I grabbed what amounted to the stick and started guiding the ship downwards. I started flicking switches that would turn off safety protocols on the power source. To make said power source overload.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Annabeth.

"Listen," i said without preamble, "Get the hell out of the city now. We're on Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Crash and blow up the ship at the same time. If this runs on what I think it runs on, it'll make the master bolt look like a damn sparkler. Get out of the city. Live." I hung up. I didn't want any of them to try and tell me I was crazy. I already knew that. What I really didn't want was the last few bits of chatting. The goodbyes. Those I couldn't take.

I suppose the ship crashed, but I didn't feel it.

I felt the explosion of the ship's core, though. It was a flash, that I saw for an instant.

In that instant I felt two things:

One was physical, that the flash was taking me to pieces.

The second was mental, and it was guilt. It was "Here I am, dying in a way I can't get back from, and I still never told her how I felt."

Then I was over. And I knew no more.


	15. Chapter 15

**Note: Picking up after the OC's sacrifice, there is a slight perspective shift in terms of the point-of-view. Please review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 15

Thalia sat on her bunk, holding an envelope in her hands. It had fallen out of the pocket of her jacket an hour ago. It had her name on the front. She wasn't sure what it was, but she could guess.

She slid her knife along the top and pulled the letter out. She started reading.

_Thalia:_

_If you're reading this, it's because I'm dead. Knowing myself, I died in a way that didn't leave any time for last words or quick goodbyes. So I left this behind, to reveal itself after death, with a little amateur hocus-pocus I remembered that I knew._

_I left this because there's something I have to tell you. Something I ought to be telling you in person, not through an 'in-case-of-death, break-glass' letter._

_I love you, Thalia. From the moment I first saw you six years ago, I'm fairly certain that I loved you._

_And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I never told you, and that now it's too late for this to change anything._

_The honest reason I never told you was because I was a coward. It's that simple. I wasn't sure how you'd react at first, if I told you. Hell, I didn't even know myself, then. Then, you became a Hunter, and I tried to tell myself I didn't tell you because I didn't want to accidentally wreck your life. And while I guess that's true, on some level, it wasn't that that really stopped me. It was the fact that I was too scared of what would happen if I told you._

_So I'm telling you now, in my cowardly fashion, that I'm beyond feeling the consequences of my actions. I'm telling you because this is honestly the only way I can bring myself to tell you._

_If you take nothing else from the years we knew each other, just remember this: I love you, and never telling you that before I died was the greatest mistake of my life._


	16. Chapter 16

**Note: The story is not yet over! To be honest, it is far from over. This is going to be a very short chapter(almost a mini-chapter, really) and mostly exists cause I cannot in good conscience take that 'explain stuff I lack to the skill to write in the Note section' route again. This time, we're on Olympus, with a meeting of the Gods, the gang, and an emissary of the guys who sent in the warship the OC blew up and died on in Chapter 14(the emissary speaks with bits of old-school English thrown in, a-la Zoe(and when picturing him, just google 'mouth of sauron' and run with that)). And, just cause I want to keep the streak going, there may be a sudden shift in the type of narration. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 16

"I still fail to see why we allowed this…being in council with us." Zeus said distastefully.

"Because I informed thee that I might provide clarity upon the unfortunate occurrence in Rome." The mysterious emissary said, the words sliding over long, pointed teeth that were unencumbered by lips.

"And what 'clarity' have you provided?" Zeus asked.

"None, for thou hast not given me the opportunity to do so." The emissary spread his hands, the long black robes pulling up his arms, revealing black,talon-like nails and the same putrid, dead-looking skin on his hands as what little of his face could be seen beneath his hood and mask. "I am simply here to state the purpose of mine people in this…little war thou art caught up in."

"And what is this purpose, of this people we were not even aware existed?"

"Our purpose is protect those who have no part in thy war. To safeguard them from the fallout-"

"Bullshit." A voice called from the back of the chamber. Everyone turned to look at the speaker.

I walked up into the council chamber, feeling the weight of Fenris on my back, and felt like I was in my element again.

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic was hell." I said.

**Note: I actually came up with a name for the OC's sword, said name being Fenris(cause Norse names are just badass)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Note: Picking up right from the end of the last chapter. The OC is back, and still a total smart-ass. As a quick preview, we've got angst, insight, and threats to look forward to. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 17

"So, yeah, sorry I'm late, and that I didn't call ahead, but I figured just getting here quick might be the best option. You know, so I could…explain what happened…in Rome…" My voice slowly trailed off as everyone in the room just stared at me. "Okay, this silent staring is getting kind of disconcerting, so, just, someone say something."

"I am surprised thou art here, Son of the F-" The emissary said.

"Finish that sentence, Mouth, I swear I will relieve you of your head, diplomatic immunity or not." I interrupted.

"Mouth?"

"Always felt that nickname suited you, just never got the chance to use it."

Mouth's teeth clenched, and if he had lips, I figured he'd be pursing them in a angry grimace.

"Insolence, petulance. Such things are beneath thee." He said.

"Really? Why's that?" I asked.

"Whatever thee past actions, thy bloodline and skills command respect. Though mine opinion is of the minority."

"Wow, some of you actually still think well of me. I might be touched if I actually gave a damn as to what you think of me." I walked into the center of the room. "Do not trust him," I pointed at Mouth, "for almost every word his black tongue forms is a lie. His people do _not_ have the best interests of ordinary humans at heart, unless their best interests include death and torment beyond imagining."

The room was silent for almost a minute.

"Well, death certainly made him more articulate." Mr.D offered.

"Thanks, I think."

"Though is the small matter of the city you destroyed."

"Yeah, I figured that would come up."

"Why?" Zeus asked.

"Why, what?"

"Why did you destroy Rome?"

"I saw an opportunity to eliminate two enemies at once. Understand, wiping Rome off the map was not my original plan, but circumstances forced me to take drastic action."

"Drastic, is what you call it?"

"You have another name for it?"

"Foolish. Dangerous. Reckless. Misguided. Apathetic. Insane-"

"You rattling off a list here, or what? I know what I did. But I suspect I'm the only one here who truly knows _why_ I did it."

"Then please, enlighten us." Zeus said sarcastically.

"As I first said, I did it to try and put an end to two threats at once. Based on the smoldering anger in the room, and my own observations of what's left of Rome, that goal failed. All I did was make a big crater and get the Doors shut again. But in all honesty, trying to get rid of the giants was a secondary concern. The warship that shouldn't have been on this plane of existence concerned me far more. The fact that is was packed with troops and weaponry, only more so. I did what I did to eliminate a threat no-one else even knew about, or grasped the magnitude of. Even now, I know that destroying that ship will only delay them. They'll be back, in force next time. But as far as I'm concerned, having them off our backs now will pay off in the long run."

"So, you have no qualms about wiping out an entire city?"

"If I may be blunt: who do you think you're talking to? I destroyed and entire city, without a second thought. Rome will weigh on my conscience, do not ever doubt that. But ask yourselves what else must I have done to be able to do such a thing? Let me give the answer so you don't waste your time pondering: Rome is just one more tragedy added to a very large heap."

I turned around and walked briskly to the steps


	18. Chapter 18

**Note: Again, we're hot on the heels of the previous chapter. Things may or may not pick up in terms of action here. It all depends on how quickly I can move things along. Also, the 'angst'**

**bit I mentioned in the last chapter's Note is far more applicable here. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 18

I sat on a bench a few streets down from the council chamber, spinning Fenris on its point.

I heard steps coming towards me.

As I looked up, I saw everyone in the old crowd approaching.

Thalia broke ranks, walked right up to me, and punched me in the face.

I'm not certain if she meant to have that little extra static blast or not, but it was there regardless. And it sent me clean off the side of the bench and put me on my back. And burned my right cheek clean off. I waited until it grew back(which took about ten seconds) before I turned to face her.

"I deserved that." I said, dragging a closed fist across my new cheek.

"Damn right you deserved that." She said, eyes blazing with anger. "What, you think you can just casually walk in, drop a quip, after…that note, and….just..not even..." her voice trailed off into sputtering nonsense. I'd apparently startled and enraged her to the point of incoherence. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"If I'd been able to contact you, any of you, I would have." I got up from the ground. "But I only got back into the illustrious land of the living about two weeks ago. And the first week was an absolute mess."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever come back from the dead before? It's a tad disorienting, I've been told. Ever get put back together by some outside force at a level below sub-atomic, cause that's the level you were utterly obliterated at? That's coming back from the dead to the trillionth power, and that is coming from personal experience. The second week was getting here. On my own."

"You couldn't even stop by a pay phone?"

"I was coming from Rome. I haven't even slept in the last hundred and forty-seven hours. Figured the guys who sent that ship in were gearing up for a counter-strike. Instead they sent Mouth in, which almost disturbs me even more than sending in a small army."

"You know that creep?"

"you could say that."

"Wait, how much did you get back this time?" Percy cut in.

I smirked. "If you're talking about memory, all of it. Every last missing bit, it's all back in here." I tapped my right temple. "Along with some new information."

"How'd you even…learn anything? You were dead right?"

"I guess, but I think something maybe..bent the rules in my case. I have a better-than-most-idea of what the afterlife is, and I was not in the afterlife. If I had to guess, I'd say Limbo."

"Limbo?"

"Yeah, Limbo, that's what I said. The hidden, unintended half-way point between life and death, where you can get to one side or the other if you try hard enough. And if you're lucky, you get the skinny on some very important secrets."

"But there's-"

"No Limbo in Greek, besides Charon's lobby? Well, that's cause this isn't Greek in origin. Cause I'm not Greek in origin. Hell, I'm not even Earthly in terms of origin."

"Now, thou dost not want to give away all thy secrets just yet." A voice called out.

"Hell." I sighed angrily, and scooped up Fenris. I spun it in my hands and stopped it, tip pointing right at Mouth's throat.

"Now, what hast I done to warrant such aggression?"

"You're here. That's all the warrant I need, Mouth. Speaking of which, why are you here?"

"Address me properly, I might perchance be more forthcoming."

I glared at him. "Fine, Nazarra, why are you here?"

"I am here at the behest of my masters, Son of-"

"Remember what I said about taking your head off?"

"You would not dare."

"You'd be surprised at what I'm willing to dare these days, Nazarra." I stepped closer, and held Fenris' tip against his throat. "Care to come clean for real?"

"As I said, I am here at the behest of my masters."

"Yeah, I get that, and that's what bothers me. There is no reason for them to send you here. If anything, they should have you on a leash to make sure you don't get within a thousand yards of here, after I exposed their little battleship. The gods didn't even know you existed until two weeks ago. You coming here serves no purpose. I know they sent you. What I can't figure out is why they sent you."

Nazarra's teeth shifted. I figured he was trying to smile, but he didn't have enough skin on his face(or at least, enough skin that wasn't permanently warped) to pull it off.

"Mine purpose is that of a distraction." His teeth shifted a bit more, as he saw that I realized what he meant.

Suddenly, I had a knife sticking out of my left eye, wedged firmly in my brain. Granted, that seemed immaterial after having recently come back from below-sub-atomic-disintegration, but it still hurt. A lot.

I yanked the knife out. "Get behind something, now!" I yelled. I noticed that Nazarra had disappeared. I drew Ragnarok with my other hand and started twirling it and Fenris in a defensive, figure-eight pattern.

Not a moment too soon either, as beams of light were reflecting off them a second later.


	19. Chapter 19

**Note: Yet again, right from the end of the last chapter. We've got action and the re-introduction of a familiar face coming. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Unfortunately for me, the necrophytes shooting at me were much better shots than the ones at Camp Jupiter. One of the got a round squarely in my gut beforeI ducked behind a building with every else.

The wound started leaking black ooze and blood.

I held my hand up to the hole.

"I hate it when I have to do this." I said, thinking out loud.

"When you have to do what?" Frank asked.

"It's easier if you just see." I responded.

I concentrated, and waited until my hand felt like it was almost asleep. Looking closely, it was shuddering and shifting in a slight after-image of itself.

I guided my hand towards the hole.

And reached into myself.

Now, technically, I couldn't actively mess up any bit of the inner workings of my body, but it hurt so bad, part of me was sure I was accidentally crushing one of my intestines as I felt around for the bullet.

When I finally go a grip on it, I yanked my hand out. As I looked at the round I'd pulled out of myself, my heart sank.

The bullet was an extremely special kind of bullet, built to cause entry-wounds only and poison victims to the very soul.

We were dealing with the absolute best our enemies had to offer. In terms of firepower, if nothing else.

"Anyone else remember those guys in Camp Jupiter? How they went down in about ten seconds flat?"

"Yeah. Why are you asking us this?" Percy asked.

"Get nostalgic for those pushovers, we'll be fighting guys that easy, well, never again, I'd guess."

"What makes you-"

"See this?" I held up the bullet. "Basically soul-poison you can shoot. The pushovers don't get kit like that."

"Soul-poison?"

"Yeah, so don't get hit."

"Wait, then why aren't you-" He had to stop as I tossed my old stolen pistol to him.

"You know how to use that?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Just peek it out around the corner, point it in their general direction, and pull the trigger a bunch. Should draw their attention long enough for me to get beneath their firing line." I suddenly thought of something so obvious I had to smack my head and drop a curse on myself.

"What was that about?"

"Hold that thought on the pistol. I'm going to see if I can't call in some backup."

I held two fingers to my temple and focused, doing my best to project my mind outwards, looking for the one I'd ran into on Olympus before.

"Maverick, you there? Come on man, I know you're stationed here. Respond. I could kinda use some help right now. And I probably look like I'm absolutely insane. And now I'm really thinking out loud, thanks for that. Wait, what? Are you f- No, wait you can't just-" I dropped my fingers. "Okay, backup's being a dick about whether or not I'm actually me. Back to the peek-the-gun-out-and-fire-it-a-bunch plan."

"What do you-"

"Not to come off as a dick, Percy, but are we going to sit here asking questions all day, or are we going to actually do something about the guys laying siege to home of the gods?"

"The second one." He mumbled.

"Good. Alright, point and fire on my go." I held up three fingers. "Three. Two. One. Go!"

Time seemed to slow down.

Percy slid along the wall, held the gun out, and just held the trigger down, which worked surprisingly well. I didn't realize that gun worked at full-auto.

I ran out from behind the corner and dashed towards the house all the bullets were coming from. Halfway there, I ran up a bench and jumped into the air. I stayed there, and figured I'd enter through the second-floor windows. Or wall.

I was almost at the house when a ball of flickering black fire shot out from the window in front of me.

I'm fairly certain my expression at that moment would've by right at home in an action comedy movie.

I swung Fenris, catching the fireball on the flat of the blade.

The force knocked me backwards.

Then the ball exploded.

I crashed through the wall of the house Percy and the others was hiding behind.

Rolling out of the view of the large hole I'd created, I angrily jammed my fingers on my temple again.

"Maverick, it's me, dammit! I just got shot with a ball of concentrated hellfire! Get your dust-filled ass over here and help!"

I heard a whooshing sound, and rolled back into view of the hole.

A black blur shot through the window of the house where the necrophytes were holed up.

The sound of whirling metal, up-close fighting, and gunfire filled the street.

Two necrophytes crashed through the wall of the second floor and landed on the street below, bleeding from stab wounds in their foreheads.

Thirty seconds later, the front door of the house(and a good deal of the wall surrounding it) came down in a flurry of bullets and whirling knives.

Maverick spun, dust pouring from holes all over him, slicing the throat of the necrophyte in front of him, then turning and burying one knife in the chest of one to his right.

The only surviving necrophyte, the one with the fire-blaster, was standing in the house, aiming at Maverick.

Maverick turned and hurled his last knife straight into his attacker's head, the ball of fire shifting his coat as it just passed within centimeters of him.

He held out his hands and his knives shot back into them.

He turned around and looked at me.

"Seems like I'm always saving your sorry ass." He called out.

**Note: In case there's any confusion, Maverick is the gas-mask-dust-bleeding guy from Chapter 6**


	20. Chapter 20

**Note: You know the drill by this point. We've got some slight character development and some tension. Also, sorry for the long gap between chapters, but I've been focused with school and freaking the crap out over how much it actually costs to go to college. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

"Well, it's an ass worth saving." I yelled back.

"That's highly debatable." Maverick said, closing the gap between us.

"Actually, what are you even talking about? We worked together, what, three times total? Counting this one?"

"Four total. And I saved you once each time."

"Yeah, well I think I can lay claim to similar numbers."

"Not yet. Remember, we're counting this time, too."

"Yeah, you got me there."

We went silent for a second, just taking the other in, then grabbed each other's hands.

"Damn good to be back." I said.

"You'll have to tell me how you managed that. And why you didn't report in."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't blow up a city and go unnoticed-"

"Actually, I did. for like, two weeks. Probably would've gone for longer if Mouth hadn't shown up."

"Mouth?"

"Nazarra."

"Oh. That's a good nickname."

"That's what I said."

"How come you never used it before?"

"Never had the chance to. But come on. We've got a city under siege; logistic and catching up can come later."

Two hours later, we had Mouth and the last dozen necrophytes pinned against the steps leading to the council chamber.

Maverick and I fought them up the steps, the gang hanging back at a reasonable safe distance and adding what long-range help they could. They didn't like it, but they also understood what would happen if any of them took a round.

I cut the head off the necrophyte in front of me, while Maverick dragged his knives down and out of the torso of the one in front of him.

Mouth just stood there and we pointed our weapons at him.

His teeth shifted again, in that smile his face was too deformed to actually manage.

Suddenly, he wasn't there, and everyone behind us was screaming.

I spun around and saw Mouth dragging Thalia out of the group, holding a shimmering black knife to her throat.

"Back! Get thee back! Unless thee wish her dead! Drop thy weapons. Now!"

Maverick started forward, but I grabbed his arm.

"Do it, Maverick."

"You can't-"

Do it." I said, leaving no doubt as to what I expected him to do.

I was nervous. This was a side of Mouth I'd never seen before. A side willing to get his hands dirty.

I dropped Fenris, and slowly started walking down the steps.

"Not one more move, Son of the First." Mouth said. "Thou dost think me a fool? Thy mentor's blade. Relieve yourself of it."

I slid Ragnarok off my hip, unsheathed the blade, and dropped it on the steps.

I went down another two.

"Just let her go." I said.

"Yes, and loose mine only protection from thine wrath, all the more greater now? I think not."

"Let her go, or you don't leave here alive."

"I've no patience now for jests. You would not dare harm me."

"You'd be surprised. But the thing is, I won't have done a thing."

Mouth looked perplexed. Everyone did.

Then Ragnarok, the sword that everyone but me seemed to forget had a will and superpowers of its own, shot off the steps and buried itself in Mouth's knife-arm.

I jumped the distance between me and him, summoning Fenris back into my hand, and cut his other arm off before I slammed Fenris' hilt into his nonexistent nose and putting him on his back.

I pushed Ragnarok into the ground, making sure he couldn't leave.

"You okay?" I asked Thalia.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine."

I wanted to say more, but I had something at my feet that demanded my attention.

I leaned down and yanked Mouth up by his collar.

I had something to ask him.

For the sake of keeping the chat private, I switched languages. To one I knew only he and I could speak.

"_I have a question." _I said.

_"You expect an answer?"_ Mouth asked, incredulously.

_"You get to live if I get one."_

_"Very well."_

_"Where is it?"_

_"Where is what?"_

_"The place where I got the sword in your arm from."_

_"You've already-" _I cut him off by sliding Fenris into his gut.

"_Don't bullshit me, Nazarra. I know it's still around in more than ruins. I know it shifts from place to place. I want to know where it is now."_

_"Black Rock Desert."_

_"That's a pretty big spot to look through. Sure you can't get more specific?"_

_"In the very center of its namesake."_

_"Much appreciated."_

I tossed him back to the ground.

"So, you'll let me go now?" Mouth asked.

I looked at him for a second.

"Let me think about that…" I swung Fenris and cut his head clean off. "No.


	21. Chapter 21

**Note: SSDD, as it has been for the last four-or-so chapters. BIg reveal here, and lots of exposition. Get giddy with anticipation. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 21

"What did you just do?" Percy asked me, looking at Mouth's dead body.

"I chopped his head off. I'm not sure why you need to ask, you saw me do it."

"He just said you gave your word to let him go."

"Yeah well, death, sneak-attacks, and watching your friends get held at knife-point have a way of sapping you of your generosity."

I walked over to my right, to a balcony, looking over the city.

Maverick follow close behind.

"You're going to get it this time. Castiel isn't here to protect you-" He started to say

"Don't say that. Ever."

"He's dead."

"He isn't."

"He's not here to protect you from violating one of the few inviolable rules in our modus operandi. 'Do not harm the messenger, no matter their origin or crime.' "

"So? You going to report me, Maverick?"

"Maybe. But I won't need to. They'll notice when he doesn't return. Then they'll search, and find his body."

"Not if it's hidden."

"Don't tell me you expect me to-"

"Thanks for volunteering."

"Screw you."

"Well, worth a shot. I don't much feel like hiding that worthless pile of worthlessness anyways. Sides, I've got more important things to worry about right now."

"Okay, I hate to cut in, but what are you two talking about?" Percy asked.

"Just discussing the current situation."

"Who was this guy a messenger for?" Annabeth asked, gesturing at Mouth's corpse.

"Hell." I replied.

"Hades?"

"No, Hell. Hades and Hell are two very different places. Trust me on that."

"But-"

"Let me guess-summarize what you're about to say in a few words: not-how-it-works, the-Mist, no-such-thing."

"Well, yeah you kind just did."

"Let me ask you something. When Chiron told you the gods existed, how did you respond?"

"You sound like you already know."

"i can guess, cause I imagine I said almost the exact same thing."

"What did you say?"

"I asked him if we were talking about the literal capital-G God, and he told me 'we shan't deal with the metaphysical.' "

"Wait, do you mean-"

"What I mean, Percy, is that the metaphysical is out there, and it doesn't give a rat's ass as to whether or not any of us want to have to deal with it." I looked down at New York City below me, and thought about the bomb I was about to drop on them. "You've been dealing with it since you met me."

"So, what are you, exactly then? Not saying I believe you, but what are you, according to yourself?"

"I'm a little disappointed you need to ask that. I thought your intuitive skills where better. The soul-poison bullets didn't do anything remotely soul-poisoning to me, I have intimate knowledge of Hell's military structure and am, well, was on first-name terms with its top emissary." I pointed to Mouth's body as I said the last bit.

He just looked at me blankly.

I sighed.

"I'm a demon, Percy." I said


	22. Chapter 22

**Note: Y'know, I'll just say when it isn't immediately following the events of the last chapter. Lots of exposition. Grab a cup of coffee. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 22

"Well, strike that. I'm half-demon." I said.

Everyone just looked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You do realize how crazy you sound, right?" Frank asked me.

"Says the son of the Roman war god who is also a shapeshifter."

"But-"

"It's only Greek and Roman? Sorry to burst the bubble of happy ignorance but life ain't quite that simple."

"How do you even know?"

I pointed at Mouth, and then at the necrophytes. "Anything like any of them pop up in any legends, Greek or Roman?"

"No, but-"

"They don't match non-either-of-those accounts of what demons are supposed to look like? Sorry to say that's human misinterpretation at work. And kinda the fault of Renaisance artists, with their oh-so-catchy demon depictions."

"How do you know?"

I sighed.

I shut my eyes and concentrated.

I heard something like a quick fire cracking.

I opened my eyes and looked down at me hands.

They were colored like ash, with glowing red symbols stretching along them.

Twisting Fenris up, I looked at my reflection.

My face had gone through a similar process; my eyes were pools of glowing red, no white or black in them. My hair had turned black, and was flowing upwards in a strange pattern, like it was black fire instead of hair.

"Huh. That hair thing is new." I said. My voice was like three of me talking at once, each at different pitch, all of which sounding like they were in the process of using hot asphalt as mouthwash. I could see my breath when I talked.

I set Fenris down on its point, and shifted back to a more normal-looking form.

"Good enough?" I asked.

"Well, how has anyone not known about this?" Percy asked.

"So things keep going the way their supposed to."

"Wait, you said Hell, right?"

"Yeah, Hell. Not Hades, that's a completely different place. And honestly, more pleasant. Cerberus is a much nicer guard dog, too. And he actually looks like a dog. But we're getting off topic, specifics can come later."

"So, if there's a…Hell-"

"Yeah, there's a Heaven, too. Haven't seen it, doubt I will. As to how Hell, Heaven, and Olympus, et cetra all exist at once, it's pretty simple actually. Olympus and its ilk are kinda the outsourced versions of Heaven and Hell, cause those places and the beings who run them got too busy trying to destroy each other to be able to do their actual jobs."

"So, we're all just the outsourced workers?"

"maybe I'm saying it wrong. Olympus and what not, handles the workings of the world on the small scale, day-to-day, year-to-year. Heaven and Hell, they run the long-term show. Like, 'billions of years and eternity' long-term. WIth those three old spinsters serving as the middlemen. Or middle women."

"The Fates?"

"Yeah. Orders for how stuff goes down come in from upstairs, they make sure things go according to plan downstairs."

"So which are you?"

"Didn't I already say I was half-demon?"

"No, you work for Heaven, right?"

"No, I don't. Maverick doesn't either. Me and him, we're Agents."

"Agents?"

"Of the balance."

"Balance?"

"Between Heaven and Hell, good and evil, paradise and wasteland, you get the idea. Agents make sure neither side causes too much trouble at the local level of things, keep everything from getting out-of-hand."

"So, there's always been Agents?"

"No, sadly, Agents are a bit of a more recent development in universal-existence politics. Like I said, we basically make sure Heaven and Hell don't get to uppity at any level, but we weren't always around. It was the last major conflict between Heaven and Hell that brought the Agents and Olympus and the world as it is today into being."

"What conflict?"

"Second War of Creation. Was about five, ten million?" I looked over at Maverick, unsure of the actual numbers.

"Fifteen." he said.

"Fifteen, thanks, fifteen million years ago. Heaven and Hell got into yet another all-out killfest, only this time, the world almost ended up as collateral damage. So they put a plan into place that would let something develop on Earth that would manage the low-level workings of the planet. Thus, Greek god history. The Agents were set up to make sure neither side would interfere too much and accidentally destroy the world. And you just learned the full history of existence in about ten minutes."

"So, what does Hell have to do with this problem with Gaea and the giants?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say this whole problem with Gaea and the giants is Hell's work. Waging war through proxy. They can't openly attack the planet on their own. For one thing, every Agent in existence would come down on them, and by that point, Heaven might be within rights to bring its own big guns to bear. So they're being smart about it. Exploiting loopholes in the order of reality. Clever bastards."

"Wait, you said you were half-demon?" Thalia interjected.

"Yeah."

"So, what's your other half?"

"Angel, most likely."

"How do you figure?"

"I was raised in Hell, simple as that. Offspring that's half-human gets raised by the human parent. Angel-demon hybrids get raised by whichever parent figures they'll do a better job of it. Honestly, they aren't as uncommon as you'd think. Something like 5-9% of the total population of higher existence is half-angel-half-demon. Myself included."

"Yeah, but, what makes you so sure?"

"I wouldn't be here if I was pure demon. I wouldn't have had enough of a conscience of morals to give the typical demon lifestyle the finger and become an Agent."

"What's so bad about-"

"You really don't want to know. I'll tell you some other time, but right now, I have somewhere to be, now that everyone's world is sufficiently rocked."

"True, you do need to get back in touch with head-" Maverick began to say.

"Actually, I don't."

"Then where are you going?" Percy asked

"Black Rock Desert, Nevada."

"Why?"

I walked over to Mouth's corpse and pulled Ragnarok out of his arm.

"See this?" I held up Ragnarok. "Sword of my old partner and mentor. Castiel. An Angel. Presumed dead for something like three-hundred years."

"How does your old dead teacher relate to you needing to go Nevada?"

"Remember how I said I learned things in Limbo? Well, I learned that he's still alive. Still alive, and stuck in a demon-run POW complex. Cause of me."

"Because of you?"

"We were both being held there. We broke out of our cells, but got trapped halfway through. Cas stayed behind to give me time to get out. I thought I'd just left him to die. I left him to worse. I left him to the careful ministrations of pissed of demons for almost three-hundred years. He's there because of me, I know where it is, and I'm going to get him out before I do anything else. That or die trying, but that's not exactly Plan A." I turned and started walking away.

"Wait." percy called.

"Don't try and stop me."

"Stop you? Who do you think I am? I'm coming with you."

That stopped me in my tracks.

"You do remember that I'm going to be breaking into a demon-controlled POW facility?"

"Yeah, you told us."

"And you want to help?"

"We're friends aren't we? That's what friends do."

"Fine. Come on."

I started walking again. Then i heard a lot more people than just Percy following me.

I turned around and saw that everyone else was following me.

"You really didn't think we'd let you do this on your own?" Thalia asked.

"No, I guess not." I said. "One condition: things start to go south, in any way, all of you get out, as fast as you can. Leave me if you have to."

"That's-"

"I don't care. You don't know what they'd do to you, any of you. Things get bad, you all get out. You can't do that, don't come."

No one moved.

"Ok. Maverick," I called "Don't report me back in for another seventy-two hours."

"Why so long?"

"They'd try to stop me."

"I'm going to report this."

"Well, at least don't tell them where I'm going."

"Where are you going?"

I smiled.

"Alright, come on. Let's get going. We're on the clock.


	23. Chapter 23

**Note: Sorry for the delay, but I've been busy stressing over school, watching Firefly(again) and starting a Firefly-fanfic. Anyways, fast forward a few hours from the last chapter. Prison-break-in coolness(and likely wackiness) is bound to ensue(until everyone actually gets inside the prison. It's a sobering place). Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any other affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 23

I looked down at the large concrete building, surrounded by high walls, fences, towers, flames, and razor wire.

"How did you know this place was here?" Thalia asked.

"Mouth told me." I said, still focusing on the complex.

"So, what exactly is it?"

"A prison?"

"Very funny."

"Fine, if you really want to know. It's Purgatory."

"Purgatory?"

"Yeah. Not what you were expecting, I know. A lot less wasps and bees than Aleghiri claimed. Don't let that fool you. If anything, it's worse than that."

"Waps and bees?"

"Read the Divine Comedy when we get out of here, we're on the clock right now. We've got another fifty hours tops before Maverick reports me back in and Agents track me down."

"I though he agreed to wait for seventy-two."

"Maverick's too much a straight arrow to bend the rules that far."

"Wouldn't more Agents help if you're trying to break one out of prison?"

"Not in this case. I'll explain later. Right now, we need to figure out how we're getting in." My gaze drifted towards a set of pipes expelling flames. "Right there, maybe."

"The pipes shooting out fire?"

"Yeah. The disposal systems, for prisoners who expire. During the 1812 war, a few POWs tried to sneak out through those tubes."

"They made it?"

"No. Actually, they were incinerated. Theory's sound, though."

I turned back and saw looks of horror on everyone's faces.

"Relax. I was kidding. I'm going in through the sewer system, and see if I can't find clear a bit of path for you all to follow."

"The sewer system?"

"Don't ask. Just, don't. Please. I hate thinking about doing it, much less talking about it."

"Why?"

"Let's just say the waste of angels, demons, and victims of demonic torture isn't much better than human waste. If anything, it's worse."

Thirty minutes later, I was in pitch-black darkness, wading through dark green water, feeling half-disintegrated bits bump into me. As my eyes adjusted, I got my bearings. I'd escaped the same way, a few hundred years ago. I could run the path in reverse well enough.

I reached the part that was right under the restrooms on the far left of the facility. I pulled myself up into the pipes, and started climbing.

I pushed up agains't a loose bit of floor, coming up out of the sewer workings. I got to my feet and turned around.

I'd climbed up into a occupied stall.

I didn't let said occupant get over his surprise. He was clearly a guard. He looked strong, well-fed, and that he wasn't tortured regularly. I had no qualms about killing him.

I punched him in the face, spun him around, got him in a chokehold, and shoved his head into the toilet. He thrashed around and tried to flush, but I pulled his hand away and held his head under until he stopped moving. I held it there another two minutes to be sure.

I dropped back down into the sewer and motioned for everyone to wait.

"Alright. So no-one's startled, I just drowned a guy in a toilet up there. I probably should have mentioned this, but breaking someone out a place like this, you need to get your hands dirty. Anyone's not comfortable with that, wait outside. There's no going back once we're in until we've got Cas out."

No one moved.

"I really don't know why I bother. Come on."

"Where is he?" I asked, tightening my grip on the throat of the bookkeeper for the cells.

"You're going…to need..to get more….specific."

"Angel. Name of Castiel. Held here since 1779."

"He's in-"

"Just transfer it."

"You're-"

"Yeah. Beam it in, Scotty."

I felt the location of Castiel's cell drop into my mind.

"Thanks." I slammed his head down onto his desk.

I dropped the body of the second guard to the ground.

"Was that really necessary?" Percy asked.

"Yeah. It was."

"Does this even bother you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you're part demon. You've been killing-"

"I also said I'm probably half-angel too. And I have a policy of saving mercy and pity for things that actually deserve them. Demons don't."

I slid the keys from the guards into the door and opened it.

Inside, chained to the wall, with that gold-white-red-layered blood dripping from almost everywhere, was Castiel.


	24. Chapter 24

**Note: Tearful(and hopefully badass) reunion, to come. Oh, and when picturing Cas, picture Liam Neeson in Schindler's List-mode.**

**Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 24

I looked at Castiel, hanging slightly from manacles on his wrists, attached to chains running through loops of metal in the back wall.

Blood was either dripping or scabbing all over him.

I hated myself. For leaving him here. For immediately assuming he was dead. For never checking whether or not he was still alive. For not doing this a hundred years ago.

I walked up to him.

"Cas?" I whispered.

He slowly lifted his head, and looked at me through eyes half-shut from the cuts, bruises, and needle-marks.

"Can't be." He said.

"Yes. It can."

"Can't." He dropped his head.

"Damn it, Cas. It's me. I'm here. I'm getting you out."

He spat a gob of blood onto my cheek.

"Keep your illusions to yourself, whore. I'm not falling for this trick."

I backed away slowly.

I was horrified. Of all the people I ever expected Purgatory to break, Cas wasn't on the list.

I wasn't sure if broken was the right term, but I didn't know what else to use. He thought I was just some illusion, some new torment his captors thought up.

I realized how I could prove his assumptions wrong.

I pulled out Ragnarok.

"Cas."

He lifted his head grudgingly. His eyes widened at the sight of the sword.

"They never recovered this, did they? They couldn't. It wouldn't let them. But I found It, and It let me. And if there's any bit of you left that they haven't cut out or drowned in despair, poison and lies," I jammed Ragnarok into the floor, a few inches beyond the reach Cas would get out of his shackles "You'll reach It, and It'll let you take It back."

I backed away, and watched him.

"Why don't you just cut him loose?" Percy asked.

"Cause this is something he has to do himself."

"How can you think that?"

"Cause I know it's what he'd say if our positions were swapped. And he'd be right."

Cas started moving, the chains sliding through the rings, his hands reaching out.

He was getting closer to the sword, the chains drawing the manacles tighter on his arms.

His fingers were inches from the hilt, the manacles digging into his forearms, fresh blood seeping out.

With a groan of pain and loathing, he stopped moving and allowed himself to be yanked back agains't the wall.

Then he charged forward, his hands shooting out, grasping Ragnarok's hilt. He slowly drew the blade from its scabbard, then let himself get yanked to the wall a second time. I could see the muscles and tiny shots of bone on his forearms where the manacles had cut into them.

Wearily, he turned and sliced through his chains.

He fell to his knees and I rant forward to grab him.

"You can be such a dick sometimes." He said, smiling weakly.

"Well, I learned from the best, didn't I?


	25. Chapter 25

**Note: I feel I have to apologize for the HUGE time gap between chapters, but I've had AP Exams looming over me for something like the past month, so my creative juices and active motivation to write new chapters were kinda impaired. I also have to apologize for pulling the 'chapter 14' trick, and explaining stuff away in the notes that I find I can't satisfactorily write out. **

**Long story short, the prison break didn't quite go as planned, and the OC got captured(DUN,DUN,DUN!) Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 25

I was dropped onto a chair in the center of a room, naked. There was no bottom to the chair. Chains covered in mystic, binding script were wound around my body, holding me in place.

My escorts left, leaving me sitting with my junk literally hanging in the breeze in the open space of the chair, unable to move for the chains.

I heard footsteps.

A woman walked out of the darkness in front of me.

I recognized her.

"You." I said. I tried to sound loathing, but I was so worn out from all the torture, I didn't manage much.

"Well, I'm glad you remember me." She said, flicking a strand of blond hair behind her ear.

I looked down at her hands. She was holding a length of knotted rope.

"So what'd you do?" I asked.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Which guy did you sleep with that you weren't supposed to to get busted down to running Purgatory? Bit of a comedown, isn't it?"

"Why I'm here is none of your business."

" Yeah, the 'whys' of things were never a subject you were keen on getting into."

She smiled coldly. She walked around to my side, let some of the rope drop, and started swinging it slowly, back and forth.

She added a little extra motion after a few seconds, and the knot slapped up between my legs.

I couldn't suppress a groan of pain.

"You know, I've never understood these elaborate tortures all the others are so fond of, She said "It's the simplest things to cause more pain than any being could ever endure." She twirled the rope fast and whipped it up into me.

I had to scream that time.

"This one is especially effective with males. They're kind of attached to what's between their legs. This works really well when you've got something you need to find out. But you know nothing I want to know. This is just payback."

"Oh, that's rich. You, talking about payback." I spat.

She whipped the knot again, harder this time.

"Oh, and what makes that so?"

"If anyone in this room deserves payback, it's me."

"Really?"

"Stop acting like you've forgotten!" I yelled. "You lied to me! From day one, you lied! Then when I found that out, said I wanted out, wanted a different life, tried to get away, you beat me senseless, leave to the ministrations of your latest boy toy."

"You still sore about all that?"

"There's a fraction of me left that doesn't want to rip your heart out. Actually, no, let me rephrase that: there's a fraction of me that doesn't want to beat you to death. I don't think you have a heart for me to tear out."

"So what's that fraction of you think about me then?"

"It pities you. Cause you're so damn petty. And lost. And lonely."

She gave me a look that would kill something with lesser constitution.

"Let's see if I can't get that fraction to agree with the rest of you." She said menacingly.

She whipped the knot again, twice in a row, each harder than the last.

I screamed again, long and loud.

"Y'know, I didn't want to mention it, but I've got this itch, down there." I said. "D'you mind?"

She whipped me again.

"No. More to the right. The right."

She chuckled.

And whipped again.

"Yeah. Right there. Bullseye. Thanks."

"Same cocky, smart-ass little shit."

"What can I tell you? Some people just don't change"

"You know, it doesn't have to go like this." She said, her voice shifting subtly, becoming sultry, alluring. "There are…other things we could do."

"No thanks."

"Why?"

"You need to ask?"

"Well, I'm surprised you refused."

"Why?"

"I've been exuding that little aura from the second I entered the room. How do you think you're resisting it? How can you even sit there, and not go mad?"

"Well, aside from how incredibly weird and awkward success on your part would make things, I'd like to think it's because of my strength of character."

"Yeah, right. Let's take a look, shall we?"

She reached her hand out, and held it over my chest.

I felt her reaching into me with her mind, going through me. It felt like someone was pouring oil into me.

She started chuckling, sadly.

"That's one impressive nothing you got there."

"You're so full of crap."

"Oh, you can smirk, and sneer all you want. Lie to your friends, to your angel mentor, to yourself, but not to me! I know you! I helped make you what you are! I can see into you. I can feel your true self. Feel how broken you are. How defeated, how hopeless. Fighting a war against your own kind, doing things no more virtuous than you used to, with no end or victory in sight, but this all you have left in your life to do, so you just stick with it, just keep going through the motions of it. You've built a hole in yourself, and you've let that hole become you. And you can't fill that hole back up, can you? Nothing can, not even that mewling half-god quim your so besotted with, cause you've accepted that you don't have a chance of making it happen. I can't affect you with those charms of mine because there's nothing in you to affect. Because on the inside, you might as well be dead already."

**Yeah, I kinda ripped off Supernatural with those last few bits, but I felt they made sense for the OC in terms of character, so sue me(not literally, of course)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Note: With luck, there's a daring escape somewhere in here. Also, sorry for the wait, but school's almost over, and I've got a lot on my mind. As always, please review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 26

I sat in the chair, genitals aching, trying to process the fact that I was emotionally dead.

"You're lying." I finally said.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because that's what you do. That's all you've ever done."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right. Is a lie a lie if its also the truth?"

I inhaled to give her a terse response, and tasted something in the air. Something sweet.

"Go b*%w yourself." I hissed, hoping to keep her attention on me.

"Tried it. Too much effort, not enough payoff." She whipped me again.

I thrashed in the chains.

A bone in my forearm snapped out of place and poked clean through the skin.

"Well, can't have that. Don't want you bleeding to death on me. I'll be back with someone to fix that up. In the meantime, why do you just stew here, and think about what I told you?"

She walked behind me, and I heard a door open and shut.

"Oh, great goddess Predictability. How I love thee." I said to myself.

I shifted my arm, getting some of the flowing blood onto the chains.

The metal hissed and melted.

I yanked my arm free and held the break over my other limbs, melting the chains off.

I'd had Castiel introduce a nice little chemical into the air vents. One that had a side-effect of causing blood to turn acidic. Even to magical bonds.

"Alright. Game on."

I yanked the bayonet out of the necrophyte who'd been guarding the door. I could hear sirens going off, loud yells, commotion, gunshots.

Everything that comes with a prison-wide riot.

I started running. I had a rendezvous point to get to, and not a whole lot of time to get there.

When I finally rounded the last corner and saw the remnants of the old tunnel me and Cas had used to try and escape during our first stint, I almost broke down.

I ran through it, still amazed that they hadn't filled it in, especially after shifting locations from Russia.

I got out, greeted by the sight of friends. Cas was standing there, at the head of the group. Behind him was everyone else.

I walked up to Cas. He jabbed a syringe into my neck to counteract the chemical, and pulled me into a fierce hug.

"Let's never do that again." I said.

"Agreed." He replied.

I pulled away, and noticed that everyone else was looking at me funny.

I looked down and realized I was still stark naked.

"Well, this is awkward."

"YOU!" A cry came from behind.

I swung around, and saw her, clambering out the tunnel, her blonde hair tussled and scorched, a gash on her forehead.

"This was your plan all along!"

"Well, not the riot, but the escaping part most definitely."

"I should have-"

"What? Killed me ages ago? I'm surprised you didn't slit my throat and drink my blood first time you saw me."

"You really think I'm that much of a monster?" She almost sounded hurt.

"I know you're that much of a monster. You gave me to Alistair," I held my hand out to Cas. "You still have my sword?"

He handed my Fenris.

"What say we settle this, here and now?" I asked.

"I'd be happy to." She replied.

"You really think you can take on all of us?" Thalia asked.

"Stay out of this, whore. You've no right to interfere in family matters."

"Family?"

"Yeah," I said. "This is Lillith, everyone. She's my mother.


	27. Chapter 27

**Note: Again, sorry for the wait between updates, but I was a little distracted. What with graduating and all. Anyways, back to business. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 27

"So, how you want to do this?" I asked.

"Well, one-one-one seems about right to me." Lillith said.

"Fair enough." I tightened my grip on Fenris and started forward.

We started circling each other.

"You really think you can do this?" She asked.

"What? Kick your sorry ass?"

"Kill me?"

"I don't see why you even need to ask that."

"I'm your mother. Can you really kill me?"

"I doubt we'll find out the answer to that."

"Why?"

"I have a plan for that."

"And what does that plan involve? Lots of stabbing, knee-capping, and leaving me here to rot?"

"Not really. I already put it in motion."

"What?"

"Why do you think I start this circling-each-other thing? Just wanted you to face me so he could get behind you."

She spun around just in time for Castiel to slam the flat of Ragnarok into her face. I ran up and thrust Fenris through her gut.

I pointed the tip of Fenris down and let her slide off the blade.

"So, is she dead?" Percy asked.

"Regrettably, no. It'd take more than that to kill her," I said. "But she'll be out for a good long while."

"Guess she was right." Cas said.

"Right about what?" I asked.

He just looked at me,

"Oh, for the love of- no. Don't even go there." I said exasperated. "Let's just get moving."

"Moving where?"

"Black Rock City. Closest settlement. We'll figure out our next move there."

"You know, we get through whatever it is that made you desperate enough to break me out, you're going to have some explaining to do." Cas offered.

"Why? What explaining would he have to do?" Thalia asked.

"Places like Purgatory are technically neutral ground. Agents can't even go near it without good cause. And we just burned half of it to the ground."

"We can worry about the effects to our performance reviews when the world isn't close to ending, Cas," I said. "Right now, we need some clothes, and a few hours downtime."

"Won't hear any argument from me with that plan. I would appreciate being brought up to speed some time soon." Cas offered.

" Dear old Wash and co won the good fight, slavery was outlawed about two hundred years ago, food is now mass produced, world's gonna end cause of Hell fighting proxy wars. Only the little things ever change, Cas." I said.

"That's because only the little things ever matter." He replied


	28. Chapter 28

**Note: With any luck, I'll be able to update on a fairly consistent basis now that summer is on, and be able to let you all know when other business all be interfering with my ability to write new chapters. I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any affiliated characters. Please, review and comment.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 28

I sat on a bench outside the hotel we decided to crash at. I'd set up a few dead drops in town before we'd gone into the desert in search of Purgatory, so money wasn't much of an issue. I looked up at the stars, and wondered what our next move was going to be.

I heard someone coming up from my right.

"Can't sleep?" Thalia asked.

"Don't really need to, usually." I said. "Run me nonstop for a month, I'll need to get a few hours in, but normally sleep is something I can do without. Even if I needed to, not sure I'd want to, what with all that's happened recently."

"With the torture, and prison-break, and your mom?"

"Yeah. Talk about a blast from the past. A past I'd rather not be reminded of."

"It was really that bad?"

"It was worse. Let's not get into it."

She sat down next to me.

"Nice night." She offered.

"Yeah. Can't even remember the last time I just sat down, did nothing." I replied.

"Listen. We need-"

"To talk. Yeah. I meant to long before this, but that's the problem with being big damn heroes."

"What's the problem?"

"You're always busy. Too busy to stop, take a breath, talk about the things that matter."

"So what are we doing now?"

"Experiencing the exception that proves the rule. But I imagine I just dragged us completely off-topic."

"Yeah, you kinda did."

"Sorry."

"No, it's just…" She stopped for a few seconds, looked down at the ground, then continued, "We really do need to talk."

"About the note, I'm guessing. I'm sorry about that."

"What? Why?"

"Because I somehow managed to screw that up. You know why I made it so that that note would only show itself after I died?"

"Why?"

"So that neither of us would be able to do anything from it. So that I wouldn't accidentally ruin your life. I left that never thinking I'd be back if you got it. Should've known that wouldn't work out. None of my plans ever do."

"Back up to the bit where you accidentally ruin my life."

"Come on, you know what I mean by that. You're a Hunter. You gave up love four years ago, and you found the life you were meant for. What would've happened if you'd known what you learned from that note when I was still alive?"

"I'm not sure."

"Come on. Can anyone say 'awkward-as-hell position?' That's what would've happened."

"Well, maybe, but-"

"No, listen, there's something I've got to say. Part of the reason I left that note was because I couldn't get up the courage to tell you in person. Part of it was because I figured I'd do the least damage to your life that way. I figured I'd never get a second chance with this, with you. But I did. And that complicates things tremendously. I left that so you'd know how I felt. But I'm telling you here and now, you don't feel anything, you don't know what you feel, you can't toss your life aside, I understand completely. I never intended any of this to happen. I never meant to put you in this position. And I never wanted to make you feel as though you ought to feel something you don't." I stood up.

"You never made me… I don't know. I need some time. To…figure things out." She said quietly, gaze locked on the pavement.

"Well, not to put any pressure on you, but the world's in danger of coming to end." I said. "That was a joke, by the way."

"Yeah. Real funny."

"Yeah, I need to work on my timing, I know." I turned and walked back toward my room.

"Where are you going?"

"To try and get some sleep. I may not need it, but I figure sleep is gonna be hard to come by soon enough.


	29. Chapter 29

**Note: Fast-forward a few hours from the last chapter. Things will probably hit bit of a slow point for a few chapters from here on, give or take one or two. Some humor and character development to come. I also feel I ought to warn all readers that I will from here on be putting my life in order (getting a driver's license, finishing up the last few details for college, getting a job) so future updates may be more sporadic than I previously promised. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters. Please, review and comment.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 29

Cas enthusiastically bit into his second breakfast burrito. We were all either sitting in or perched on the truck he'd acquired, having a late breakfast after the turmoil of the prison break.

"No offense man, but you're kinda…genuinely attempting to have mouth-based intercourse with that. It's a little weird." I said.

"Sorry. It's just, well, three-hundred years of Purgatory food." Cas replied, his mouth half-full.

"Well, can't fault you there. I think I repressed my memories of the food there." I said, sipping from a cup of coffee.

"Can't blame you for that."

"In an attempt to change the topic, how'd you get this truck?"

"Knocked out the owner, erased his memory of it."

"What?"

"As recompense, I healed a tumor in his brain he didn't even know he had, and swore to put in a good word for him when his time came."

"Yeah. That seems fair."

"You can heal stuff like that?" Thalia asked.

"I'm an angel. Granted, it requires a good deal of effort for me, especially now."

"Why especially now?"

"My…well, let's call them superiors, weren't all that happy with my decision to become an Agent. I am essentially a fallen angel. But being an agent gets you admin privileges. Like being able to do everything you'd normally be able to with the same amount of ease. Given that you all are the only ones on the planet that don't think I'm dead, my Agent superiors don't know to re-instate said privileges. So preforming miracles takes it out of me."

"I'm guessing that's why you got the truck, then?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm not quite up to teleporting anyone at the moment, and I imagine the same can be said for you."

"Touche."

"But I also imagine we need to get somewhere, and this will get us closer so that it'll be an easy job of teleporting when one of us gets back into the shape to do it."

"Huh. Good plan." I said, taking another sip of coffee.

"In any event, I imagine we're on some sort of timetable?"

"Yeah. We should probably get moving."

"Where are we headed?"

"Back to NYC Olympus. We need to get a plan of action together, and I kind of forgot where headquarters is."


	30. Chapter 30

**Note:Probably another shorter chapter, if only because that's the easiest way to move things along when I haven't got the whole scheme planned out. I also feel I ought to say, please keep reviewing and commenting, as that's the only way I know you all are still interested in seeing the story continue. I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 30

"So, I assume you have some sort of plan beyond 'Get back to Olympus?'" Castiel asked, turning to look at me.

"Eyes on the road, old friend." I responded.

"I don't need to look at the road to drive safely," Castiel said "So you don't have a plan."

"Who says I don't have a plan?"

"You deflected my first question with unneeded advice, and now you're questioning me. You have no plan."

"How quickly we fall back into our old places in the scheme of things, Cas."

"You _really_ have no plan."

"Alright, fine. I have no damn plan. Happy now?"

"Tremendously."

"Well….good."

"Well, you must have some semblance of a plan."

"I think Hell is waging a proxy war against the world through Gaea and the giants. They're going to let them and the Gods slug it out, then remove whoever's left standing."

"Clever. Bold. You really think that's their game?"

"Only way to explain their presence in all of this."

"I guess. But, enough about the world and whether or not it's ending. Let's talk about you."

"Don't see what there is to talk about, Cas."

"Oh, come on. The Hunter girl? I've known you long enough to be able to see when your tongue's hanging out."

I sighed. "That obvious, huh?"

"Well, it is to me, anyway."

"And, for the record, my tongue is not hanging out."

"You're practically making puppy eyes."

"How do you know all these modern phrases? You've been removed from human society for almost three-hundred years."

"Benefits of being an angel, my friend."

"Well, that answer's a lot of questions I didn't ask."

"I scanned the minds of a few humans. Figured I ought to speak like a modern one, we might need to blend in. But, getting back on track-"

"Cas, come on. I really don't want to talk about this."

"Why not?"

"Cause it's… it wouldn't ever work, that's why."

"You don't believe that. You think you do, but deep down, you know that's wrong. You know it might work, if you tried it."

"She's a Hunter. No love, no guys, ever. That's the way things work."

"and they haven't ever been known to break their vows?"

"They'd be pissing off a goddess, Cas."

"Love can drive beings to do many seemingly mad things."

"At least we can agree on that."

"I remember the Trojan War. All that death, over a lovestruck woman. Come to think of it, were you around during the Trojan war?"

"I'm not sure. How far back from now was it?"

"I forget."

"Whatever. Doesn't matter." I waited in silence. "I'm emotionally dead, Cas."

"Says who?"

"Mother dearest."

"Don't tell me you believe anything she told you."

"I don't know, Cas."

"She's a liar. You know it. All she ever does is lie for her own benefit and pleasure."

"Enough about me. What about you?"

"You know what I've been up to. Rotting in a cell for almost three-hundred years, going half-mad."

"I almost forgot. There's something I need to give you."

"What?"

I reached over, touched to fingers to his forehead, and dropped a angelic contact frequency into his mind.

"Anna.. You had her contact frequency?"

"No, she called me, about a week after I left you in Purgatory. I told her what happened."

"And?"

"I only heard from her once after that. Two-hundred years later. On business. She seemed….dead. Lifeless."

Castiel heaved a great sigh.

"Remember what you told me, before you went to conquer Purgatory singlehanded?" I asked.

"Remind me." Castiel said, head against the steering wheel, voice muffled by the leather.

"That you almost had a chance to live a life with someone you cared about, and you lost it. Now, you can get that chance back. Call her. Hell, call her now. We've got time."

The truck stopped. Castiel opened the door, and stepped out onto the dirt beside the road.

**Note: Just so there's no immidiate confusion, an angelic contact frequency is, within this story, the manner in which angelic beings contact one-another when they aren't masquerading as humans on Earth. It's basically person-sepcific angel telepathy. **


	31. Chapter 31

**Note: With any luck, we'll have some action (finally). Also, I'm re-introducing one of the characters (the snarky demon dude on top of Hubbard Glacier from Chapter 11, and disregard what i said about his previous appearance. Now, picture Tom HIddleston in full Loki mode, without the helmet and green bits). I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters. Please, review and comment.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 31

Cas stood by the side of the road, holding two fingers to his temple. He stood there for a few seconds, then dropped his hand.

I got out of the truck.

"How'd it go?" I asked.

"I-I can't get through," Cas said, puzzled. "Something's blocking me."

"Blocking you? How's that-" Suddenly, I realized what that must mean. "Get down!" I yelled.

Cas ducked as a bullet whizzed over his head, sheared through the two front windows of the truck, and lodged itself in my chest.

I dropped and rolled, reaching into myself and pulling the bullet out.

It was black. The same type that had been used on Olympus. The kind that poisoned souls.

I yanked Fenris off my back and sprung to my feet, only to see that Cas had taken care of things on his end.

Ragnarok's scabbard was embedded in the head of a necrophyte. The halves of three others lay on the ground, and Cas was just finishing skull-capping the last one.

"Well, nice to see you've kept your edge." I said.

"Yes, good for you, Castiel." A voice called out from behind.

I spun, and saw a man standing on the other side of the road. Long black hair flowed down his neck, framing slightly elfish features. He had a smile on his face that was half-benign, half-sadistic. A scimitar-like sword was belted on his left hip, a short spear slung over his back.

"Yriel." I said vehemently.

"So you finally remember me. I was beginning to worry, old friend." Yriel said, smiling, his tone light.

"Don't call me that."

"What? Old friend?"

"Yes. That. Don't' call me that."

"You don't think we qualify as old friends?"

"We do. But every time you say it, it makes it feel like we still are. Which we aren't."

"Fair enough."

"You get a new form?"

"Yes, I did, actually. The old just seemed, what's the term some humans use nowadays? Pasé. Time for a little change of pace. Think this one suits me a bit better."

I heard rustling in the truck. The doors opened and everyone else got out.

"Everyone stay right where you are." I said loudly, making sure they all heard me.

"What's the matter? Worried I might hurt them?" Yriel asked, still smirking.

"Quite."

"Well, you needn't. I'm not in the habit of killing things that defenseless."

"Who's this jerk when he's at home?" Leo asked.

"You mean it, don't you?" I asked Yriel, ignoring Leo.

"Well, if they try and kill me, I'd say within my moral bounds to try and kill them right back. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Damn-it Yriel, this is what I have been saying!" I yelled angrily. "You're better than this! Than what you are, than what they have you being! We both know it! Why won't you-"

"What? Turn my back on my people? Betray those who trust and love me? Kill them, in the name of preserving an order that is no order at all, preserving a balance that is little more than chaos?" Yriel screamed, his good nature evaporating. "I will never sink so low as to do that! I've my honor, still. I remember what it is to be loyal, unlike you!"

"Loyalty and honor don't mean anything if what you're loyal to doesn't deserve it." I said.

"So you continue to say." Yriel replied, his voice dropped from the scream, sounding near to cracking. "But give up hope of this, this foolish dream, old friend. I will never join you."

"I'm sure you'll understand if I keep hoping otherwise?" I asked.

"Of course, my friend." He replied, voice low.

He reached behind his back and drew his spear. He held it out, point away, and the shaft extended out of the hilt, growing longer until it was several feet long. He drew his sword with his other hand.

"Everyone stay out of this. No matter what happens. This is my fight, no-one else's." I said. I shifted Fenris in my hand.


	32. Chapter 32

**Note:Much as I would have liked to show the full fight scene, I suck at writing fight scenes, and didn't want to subject you loyal readers to my suckage. I may re-up this chapter at a later date when my skills with fight scenes improve, but them being what they are….So, for now, we jump to the near end of the fight. Please, review and comment (as I said, that's how I know you're still interested, and actually reading the chapters so I know when to start on new ones). I do not own Percy Jackson nor any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 32

I shifted into my demonic form and blasted Yriel with a gout of bright red flame from my hand. I scrambled off the ground, and dove for Fenris. I scooped it up, turned, and hurled the sword as hard as I could.

It buried itself in Yriel's chest.

He dropped to his knees, gasping and gurgling, and black blood started running from the wound.

I walked up to him and pulled Fenris out of his chest, letting him drop to the ground.

"Now that that little roadblock it done with, let's get out of here." I said to no-one in particular.

I started walking back toward the truck.

I heard weak laughing behind me.

"You think you've achieved anything?" Yriel asked. "You think this means anything? That leaving me bleeding in the middle of the desert somehow puts you one step closer to saving this pathetic little world?" He kept laughing weakly. "I never realized just how truly pathetic your mindset is, old friend."

"Look who's talking."

"You don't even know what we're really trying to do, do you? You're grasping at shadows and air, trying to get some sort of truth from them."

"So what?"

"How do you expect to save the world, with a strategy like that?"

"I'll figure it out."

"Not with what we're bringing to the fight. Not with _who_ we're going to have leading us, when all is said and done."

I stopped walking. If he meant..

"What are you saying?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out. Eventually." He kept laughing and coughing.

I started walking again.

I reached the truck.

"Alright, Cas, you in any shape to teleport?" I asked.

"No. I still need some time."

"Crap. Alright, everyone in the truck. We need to get back to Olympus as soon as we can."

"Why? What did he tell you?"

"He didn't give me a single straight answer, but what he was hinting at…. if I'm right, this is so much bigger than any of us thought."

"Well, bigger than you thought."

"Cas, there is a time and place for being a smart-ass. You taught me that. Now is not the time."

"Must be bad, if you're taking it seriously."

"Worst-case."

"You going to, I don't know, clue us in?"

"I think they're going to break out one of the big boys."

"Again, clue us in."

"Astaroth. Definetely Astaroth. But he can't have meant just him."

"Astaroth alone would be bad enough." Cas's face paled. "you don't think he meant-"

"That's exactly what I think he meant."

"Uh, sorry to interrupt, but who is Astaroth?" Percy asked.

"The ruler of Pandemonium, capital of Hell. Basically, he's the demon king."

"Well, how can you get worse than something like that?"

"You remember that traditional Christian jazz, Perce?"

"Yeah."

"Remember who the true head-honcho of Hell is?"

"No way."

"There's no-one else Yriel could have meant." I set my hands on the truck's hood to steady myself. "They're going try and break Lucifer out.


	33. Chapter 33

**Note: Sorry, again, but I fear I must resort to the "explain stuff I can't write to my own standards of quality in the notes section' again! Damn it! Anyways, Oc and the gang got back to Olympus, where Maverick informed them that Agents all over the world are being killed. He says that a high-up demon has been captured and wants the OC to work him over.**

**As always, please review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 33

"Why would he ask me to do that?" I said, thinking out loud.

"He knows you're the-" Castiel began to say.

"Don't say I'm the only one. Don't tell me you agree with him, Cas."

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I do. Alistair's our best source of potential information and we need to work on him. You know him better than anyone. You can cross lines the rest of us can't."

"I don't do that anymore." I said fiercely. "You know damn well I don't!"

"You don't do it, or you don't _want_ to do it? You think I want to ask this of you? But you know you're the only choice here. No other Agent could work him over as well as you could. You _know_ him. The way he thinks, what he fears, what hurts him most."

I turned and slammed my arm into a nearby metal table, inadvertently shifting form as I did so.

The metal bent and warmed beneath my arm.

I stood there for a few minutes, letting the metal heat to a glowing yellow around my arm before I finally pulled my arm off the table and shifted back out of my demonic form.

"Alright. I'm going to need some things, if I'm going to do this."

I walked into the room, rolling a cart in front of me.

Alistair was in the center, in a old-fashioned Devil's Trap, chained to a pole.

He started laughing when he saw me and the cart, full of objects and substances harmful to demons.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be laughing." he said, "I realize this is very difficult and emotional moment for you, but are they serious? They sent you to torture me?"

"Yeah. Now, you have one chance to answer my question."

"Or what, you…work me over?"

"Yeah. Now, the question: Who is killing the Agents?"

"Or…do you even want to..y'know, work me over? Maybe you don't. You're a fine, upstanding Agent of the Balance now, such things should be above someone like you. But maybe that's not it. Maybe you're afraid to admit what you really are to yourself."

I stepped closer to him.

"I'm here aren't I?"

I walked back to there cart.

"Oh, come on! You gotta want some payback, after everything I did to you."

"You don't know me."

"I think I do. I think I know you better than your pals in the other room, than that angel you look up to, than that little half-god bitch your so besotted with. See, I know the real you. I know what you did."

"Just give me a name, Alistair. We don't have to do this."

"On the contrary, we do have to do this. We both want to do this. You want to torture me. I want you to torture me, because when you do, you'll just prove me right."

"A _name_, Alistair."

"Do any of them even know? Exactly what you did, back in the Old Country? How you ran your little piece of paradise?"

I didn't say anything.

"Oh, they don't, do they? You never told them? Any of them? Man, that must have cut deeper than I thought. Well, you know what they say: the road to Hell is paved with good intentions." He started chuckling again.

I reached for one of the implements on the cart.

"Oh, now we're getting somewhere." Alistair said, happily.

I started pouring holy water into a chalice.

"Holy water? Come on! Grasshopper, you're going to need to get a lot more creative than that to impress me." He said.

"You know, Alistair, all that time you had me on your rack, cutting me, stabbing me, shoving needles in me, using everything under the sun and then some, you know what got me through that? Thinking about everything I'd do to you if our positions were reversed. So believe you me, I've got a few ideas."

I picked up a packet of salt and poured it in with the water.

I picked up a syringe and sucked in the mixture, careful not to touch any.

I approached Alistair and held up the syringe, letting him see the water and salt swirl inside.

"Let's get started." I said.


	34. Chapter 34

**Note: Sorry for the gap between updates, but I've felt the need to take a little break from this series, and I spent the weekend helping my brother move to another city two states away, so I couldn't really write anything then, either. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson one any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 34

I pulled an angelic dagger covered in holy water of Alistair's gut. I wasn't really giving him any sort of chance to recover from any of the things I'd done to him. After the syringe, I'd followed up with the knife, then pressing crosses to various limbs, and now we had reached the coating of the knives in stuff.

Alistair was groaing, but he clearly had a lot of give left in him.

"Feeling more talkative about what's killing Agents now?" I asked him, leaning in close.

He lifted his head.

"Go directly to Hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200." He said, voice full of malice.

"Guess not." I walked back to the cart, picked up a funnel, and lifted one of the bags of salt.

I heard a little chuckle from Alistair, and figured more minds games were forthcoming.

"You do know what we're after, right?"

"Yeah. Bust out Lucifer, the big man on perdition."

Alistair started laughing in earnest.

"Wow. You've been out of the game a while. No, it's so much more than that. We don't just want to break him out, we want to start it."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"You mean-"

"You can't really have expected us to let those little giant peons do all our work for us. No, if any beings are going to get the credit for destroying this world, it's going to be us. We just got that ball rolling so we could pursue our efforts in relative peace. And we are so close now."

"Close to what?" I set the funnel and salt down and approached him, getting right in his face.

"Breaking Lucifer out, of course. Don't tell me you've forgotten how that works."

"I remember how he's bound, Alistair."

Lucifer was kept caged in a personal fragmented section of Hell by a series of magical seals.

"Yeah. The Seals. Good to see you remember 'your-own-race-101.' We're damn close. Down to the last couple."

"How's that possible?"

"We've been at it for a long time. This plan, this war, it's millions of years of the making."

"Well, that all sounds interesting, but it also sounds a lot like you not answering my question." I was blustering now. The sheer scope of their plan had me worried. Not only that, but how close they supposedly were to being able to pull it off.

"Worried much? It's funny, you're the reason it's working at all. The reason everything is just falling into place." Alistair was smiling now.

I walked back to the cart, trying to block him out.

"Shut up."

"Why do you think we fed you that load of bullshit? All that talk about necessary evils, nobility in motive, redemption through pain, absolution? Encouraging you to tell that to your victims, encourage them to work each other over, in the hope they redeem themselves. We didn't do it for the kicks, kid. We did it-"

I grabbed the funnel, poured the salt in, and walked over to him. I grabbed his jaw and held his mouth open.

"I'll just make you shut up."

I poured the salt down his throat and he started screaming and gurgling again.

It took about ten minutes before he stopped screaming, but he kept on gurgling, and he'd started spitting. Spitting gobs of black blood and bits of meat onto the floor.

"Something's…caught in my throat." He said wearily, his speech garbled. "I think it's my throat."

"Maybe that'll get you to stay on the topic that matters."

"Yeah. Maybe."

I walked back to the cart.

"Feeling a little low on options now?" Alistair asked me. "Reality. Such a pain to have to deal with up here, am I right? But, to the matter at hand, you really have no idea, do you? What you did for us?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your prisoners, kiddo. What you convinced them to do. The first time one of them said yes. When that first…. convert cut into his buddies. That was the first Seal."

I turned around. I couldn't believe it. He was lying. He had to be.

"You're lying." I said, more to myself than to him.

" 'And it is written that the first Seal shall be undone when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.' " Alistair quoted.

I leaned over the cart and ran my hands through my hair.

"We had to break the first Seal before any of the others. Sure, we got set up to break some of the other ones, but we couldn't. Not until you. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, you gotta topple the one at the front of the line. When we win. When we bring on the Apocalypse, burn this pathetic little mud ball down, we'll owe it all to you." Alistair said. "But, on the topic of the dead Agents, that's not us. Nor is it your mommy, if that's what you were suspecting. She's still a little indisposed from that scratch you gave her, and we wouldn't be having this conversation if she was behind it. There wouldn't be any of you left if it were."

I strode up to him.

I almost punched him in the face, but stopped short. I didn't want to get stuck in place by the trap on the floor that kept him there.

I'd gotten what I needed from him.

I concentrated.

Fenris appeared in my hand.

Alistair's eyes widened.

"Wait-" he started to say.

I raised Fenris above my hand and swung down, splitting Alistair down the middle


	35. Chapter 35

**Note: I just feel I need to warn all readers, this story will be going on hiatus the week of labor day. Mostly because, I start college classes September 5th, and will need time to adjust to college-and-job-life. Worst case scenario, the hiatus will end around Thanksgiving. Best case, early October. Now that that's out of the way, plot twist (and angel characters) to come in this chapter. Please, review and comment. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 35

I walked back into the room where the others were waiting, Fenris in hand.

Cas sprung from his seat when he saw Fenris, covered in blood.

"What did you do?" He asked me.

"I killed him." I responded casually.

"You killed him?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"He was our one source of information!" Castiel yelled.

"And he told me the only thing that matters. The demons aren't behind our dead people. They have nothing to do with it, Cas. They're too busy trying to bust out Satan."

"I thought that-"

"They would let Gaea and the giants do all the work, then step in to take the credit? Yeah, that's what I thought too, and that's just what they wanted us to think. This whole thing with the giants, they started it, sure, but not to do their work for them. They did it to distract us from the real threat."

"Back up a bit. To the part about their work."

"They're trying to kickstart the Endwar, Cas."

Castiel was struck speechless by that one. I think it was the first time I'd ever seen that happen.

He turned and slowly lowered himself back into his seat.

"So, uh, all those of here who don't know what 'Endwar' means?" Leo asked.

"AKA, The Apocalypse, Kingsford." I said.

"Holy…wait, Kingsford?"

"It's a kind of charcoal."

"That's not funny, man."

"Yeah, well, sorry, but I've just had a near-literal heart-to-heart with the being who tortured me for two-hundred years straight. Kinda brings out the asshole in me."

"Alright, uh, back to this Endwar-Apocalypse business." Percy cut in. "How can they kickstart it?"

"Easily, actually." Cas said, staring at the floor. "All they have to do is release Lucifer. Things will go from there."

"Well…we can stop them from releasing him, right?"

Cas and I just looked at each other and didn't say anything.

"We can stop this, right?"

"The problem is how. Lucifer is trapped in his own personal little splinter of Hell, kept there by a series of magical Seals. Once a certain number of those Seals are broken, he can get out of that splinter. He can go wherever he wants."

"So-"

"If you're going to say we just make sure they don't break the rest of the Seals, you've hit the crux of the matter. There are thousands of Seals, but only a fraction of those need to broken for Lucifer to be able to escape, and we have no way of knowing which ones are broken and which are still intact."

"So that's it? We can't do anything to stop this?" Jason asked.

"Jason, what do you think the Agents were formed for?" Cas asked. "To stop these exact things from happening. If we were still at full strength, I'd say we'd be fully capable of guarding the remaining Seals, but…if what Maverick said is true, we've lost over half the beings who serve our cause. And we still don't know what's killing us."

I tuned out of the conversation, thinking on what we were dealing with, on what Alistair had told me.

The demons weren't responsible for all the dead Agents. Gaea and the giants didn't even know we existed.

My mind reached a conclusion. One that had to be wrong. If I was right…

I got up and started walking back to the room Alistair's corpse was in.

"Where are you going?" Cas asked.

"Cas, call Uriel." I said over my shoulder.

"Uriel?" Cas said, confused.

"Yeah. Have him come in this room."

"Why?"

"We don't really have time to discuss the specifics, Cas. Just call him and get him here."

I stood in the room.

Alistair's halves were still on the floor. I hadn't bother cleaning up.

"You didn't feel like getting rid of that?" Thalia asked, gesturing to Alistair's halves.

"Not really."

"So, who's this Uriel guy?"

"He's an angel. He runs a group of other angels who watch over the Earth."

"Isn't that what Agents do?"

"We make sure Heaven and Hell don't get uppity. Uriel and his buddies try and keep humanity on the straight and narrow."

"Oh. So, why are you calling this guy here?"

"You'll see."

Cas stepped in, along with everyone else.

"He's on his-" Cas began to say.

There was a sound of flapping wings and suddenly a tall, well-built, dark-skinned man was standing in front of us.

He stood there for about a minute, just looking at us. Then he directed his gaze toward Cas.

"Castiel." Uriel said.

"Uriel."

"Why did you call me here?"

"We need to talk. I think."

"Yes. Thinking. You were always good at that." Uriel said, his tone becoming condescending, scornful.

"We both know why I left, Uriel."

"Save your excuses, fallen. Why did you call on me?" Uriel finally noticed the two halves of Alistair on the floor. "And why is your prisoner dead?"

"Because I killed him." I said.

"Curb your tongue in my presence, demon." Uriel growled. "Evidently, I was not wrong about you. You're blood-"

"No offense, Uriel, but stop with the racism for two minutes, huh? We've got a serious problem down here." I said angrily.

"You dare speak to me that way?" He took a step forward.

I took a step backward. My belief that I was half-demon was only that. All I'd ever seen of myself was the demonic side. And Uriel could kill demons with the ease of normal people wiping their noses.

Uriel turned to Castiel. "What is this problem your filthy ward speaks of.?"

Cas grimaced, but didn't speak up to Uriel's bashing of me. It was something we'd gotten accustomed to over the centuries. "The Endwar, Uriel. We believe that the armies of Hell are attempting to bring about the Endwar. And something is killing Agents. More than half of us are dead. We don't know what's behind it."

"Well, that is trouble-"

"Alright, enough of this." I said to myself.

I strode forward and palm-struck Uriel in the chest, taking him off his feet and sending him sprawling to the floor.

Fenris appeared in my hand.

I brought it down a few feet from where Uriel lay.

The blade hit the ground and sparked.

That spark ignited a ring of oil, enclosing Uriel.

"What are you doing?!" Cas yelled.

"Getting answers." I said fiercely.

Uriel got up, and looked at me over the fire.

"You are truly mad-" He began.

"Save it. I know." I said.

"Know what?"

"What you're doing. The demons aren't the ones killing Agents. They're too busy trying to break the Seals in secret."

"And who told you that? That filth lying in pieces on the floor over there? Don't tell me you believed him."

"I believed him, because he was doing what he does best. He gave me the truth. The truth that would hurt me more than any sword or hot pike or poison would. Believe me, I could tell when he was lying. He wasn't lying when he said the demons weren't behind our dead people." I started pacing round the circle of flame. The oil I'd ignited was special. A cursed variety that was useful in restraining angelic beings. Cas and I had used it on more than one occasion. "Gaea and the giants don't even know we exist. They can't kill us. Which leaves one possibility left. Angels are killing Agents." I stopped, standing in front of Uriel, and looked him in the eye. The look asked the question I needed to ask.

"Very well. We are killing them." Uriel said.

"Why?" Cas asked, his voice full of pain.

"I was wondering that too, Cas. And I think I've got it." I said. "See, I can't believe that demons would begin breaking the Seals to Lucifer's prison without all of Heaven knowing. So that leads me to one conclusion: You're letting this happen. So, to quote Cas 'Why?' "

"Because we want this to be over with. We've had to endure war, death, suffering, now this stalemate that is perpetuated by a bunch of meddlers."

"Why, Uriel?!" Cas screamed. "This is agains't everything we were meant to do!"

"We were meant to watch over humanity until the time came to wipe the slate clean. We've decided that time is now."

"But-"

"Let me guess: you're going to mention God,and His plan for the world?" Uriel started chuckling sadly. "God is not with us, Castiel. He's deserted us. He left us a long time ago. You and I both know that."

"So, Daddy leaves for the weekend, and you kids decide to throw an Apocalypse while he's out." I said.

"We want this over with."

"Well, we're not going to let that happen. This is the sort of thing Agents were meant to stop."

"Why do you think we only killed just over half of you?"

"What?"

"We only killed the ones who disagreed."

"Bullshit."

"Even your leaders agree with our point of view, demon. This futile cold war between Heaven and Hell has gone on long enough. It is time for the ultimate fate of this world to be decided."

"Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you're letting happen?"

"Yes. We're doing our duty, in the end. We will win, when the Endwar comes. We will be victorious, Hell will be crushed, and Earth will be transformed. Into paradise. It is the fate of the world, should Heaven be the victor."

"See, I don't think you care about lifting up the world."

"Perhaps you are right. But regardless, two Agents stand before me. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I do not believe you two to be fools. I would have your answer.


	36. Chapter 36

**Note: I have a slight update on the topic of the forthcoming hiatus, that won't, if my plan works, be much of a hiatus. I hope to write current chapters to the point where the story intersects with several pre-written chapters, in the interest of keeping content flowing during the time I will likely be unable to write actual new material so the story doesn't up and die. Just a quick update on the inner workings of the story. As to the actual chapter, we've got some fighting and romance (though not from the OC) to come. Please, review and comment (it's how I know to keep updating). I do not own anything relating to Percy Jackson (though it kinda has drifted away from that, hasn't it?).**

Who Am I?

Chapter 36

"You're seriously asking us if we'll stand by and let you let the Endwar start, Uriel?" Cas asked incredulously.

"I take that as a 'no.' " Uriel said calmly.

"Take it how you want." I interjected. "We're not going to sit by and let this happen."

"And why is that? Why would you care about this little world so much? You never showed this degree of concern for it in the past." Uriel asked me.

I stopped. And wondered. My eyes subconsciously slid towards my left. Towards Thalia.

"Hopeless romance, then." Uriel stated smugly. "And why are you so dead set on this path, Castiel?"

"If we could be sure we would win, I cannot say for certain that I would stand against you. But we can't be sure, Uriel. We're gambling the fate of humanity and existence. I know all too well the fate that will befall this world should Heaven fail to claim victory. I am not willing to let you take that risk."

"Very well. If those are your final answers. I believe I have two more Agents who need to be eliminated."

"You're trapped in a circle of holy fire, pal. What are you going to do? Insult us to death?" I said.

Uriel simply pointed his hand upward.

A pipe above him exploded, dousing the flames.

"You really didn't think this trap of yours through, did you?" Uriel asked.

"Not really." I said worriedly.

Suddenly, Uriel was right in front of me, hands reaching for my face. I ducked and slashed at him with Fenris, but he simply deflected it and grabbed me in a chokehold.

He put his hands on my face.

I could feel energy flowing into his hands, holy energy.

It was burning me, from the inside out.

I started to scream.

I could feel the skin on my face start to smoke and blister when Uriel suddenly released me, dropping me to the floor.

Tilting my head I could see Cas attacking him with everything he had. Ragnarok was a black-and-red whirlwind, but Uriel kept dodging everything.

The gang joined in, trying to help Cas.

Leo shot fire, Jason and Percy tried to get Uriel with their swords, Thalia with working the spear, but none of it was working.

We really should have known better. We were dealing with an angelic warrior with a few thousand years of seniority on the oldest of us, that being Cas.

A sound like an explosion rang out and everyone but Cas was blasted back from Uriel and into the walls, where they remained, pinned by some invisible force.

Uriel caught Rangarok in-between his hands and yanked down, driving his knee in Cas's gut. He yanked Ragnarok out of Cas's hands and hit him hard in the chest.

Castiel went crashing into the wall behind him, knocking a small hole out where he impacted.

Uriel walked up to Cas, lifted him up by the collar of his coat, and punched him in the face.

"You have fallen so far, old friend." Uriel said.

He threw another punch.

"If you'd told me fifty-thousand years ago that we'd be here, doing this, I'd never have believed you. Yet here we are." Uriel continued. He punched Cas again. Angel blood was starting to drip from Cas's lips.

"You're going to fail." Cas gurgled.

"What makes you so certain? You think you are in the right here, Castiel? You defy Heaven, and fate, and God himself in your refusal to side with us," Another punch. "Actually, no. You don't defy God. Because he's not even with us anymore."

"You've lost faith." Cas said, smirking through his bloodied lips.

"With good reason. He abandoned us. Maybe He was never even there to begin with."

Uriel curled his hand into a fist.

Suddenly, a knife blade shot through his throat.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I'm here." Someone I couldn't see said.

Uriel dropped to the ground.

I shifted on the floor.

I could see a woman, with long red hair, wearing jeans, hiking boots, and a jean-jacket standing behind Uriel, bloody knife in hand.

"Anna." Cas whispered.

"Castiel." She said, smiling down at him.

Suddenly, they were wrapped around each other, kissing madly.

I waited about sixty seconds before I decided to interrupt them.

"Hey. Romeo. Juliet." I said. "Dying over here." I weakly waved one of my arms. I was to out of it to tell which one it was.


	37. Chapter 37

**Note: I'm going to be introducing a new character(briefly). Just picture James Callis in full Giaus Baltar mode (that's Battlestar Galactica-2004 reboot for those who haven't seen it). Please, review and comment. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 37

I slowly sat up. My head was pounding, my throat was dry, and I felt like I only had one lung, but other than that, I was fine.

"Easy." Anna said.

"What was Uriel trying to do to him?" Percy asked.

"It's called smiting. It's…well the actual explanation of it is really long and complicated, so let's just say it's an angelic kung-fu touch-of-death."

"Does it work on everything?"

Anna shook her head. "Just demons and monsters."

I looked over at Cas, who was just watching Anna.

"Thanks for stepping in." I said. "It felt like I was about to re-enact the Ark-opening scene in Raiders."

"What?"

"Raiders of the Lost Ark. Harrison Ford, George Lucas?"

Cas shook his head.

I sighed. "You sampled modern language, and you didn't pick up Raiders? Alright, Nazi's open up the Ark of the Covenant, and they get their souls stolen and faces melted."

"That's completely ridiculous." Cas said.

"What? The face-melting?"

"No. The fact that the Ark is still on Earth at the time of World War Two. It hasn't been on this world for at least five-hundred years. I happen to personally know that the face-melting isn't as far-fetched as it sounds, though."

"Whatever. Point is, smiting hurts, and thanks for stopping it."

"So, you two have a plan of some sort, or are you just making it up as you go along?" Ann asked.

"Bit of both, at the same time." I replied.

"So, that plan that will be discounted with something on-the-fly?"

"No discounting this time. We need a place to hide out and figure out how we get our heads in the game."

"I'm assuming you already have a place picked?" Cas asked.

"Yeah. Balthazar." I said.

A few seconds of angel teleportation later, we were standing in front of a door to a small villa.

"Where are we, exactly?" Leo asked.

"That's actually an excellent question." I looked inquisitively at Cas.

"One of his old safe-houses." Cas said.

" 'Old' safe-houses? As in 'not-in-use-anymore' safe-houses?" I asked.

"That's exactly why we're here. Go knock on the door, say hello."

"But you just said that…" I sighed. "Fine. I'll go… knock on the door."

"Whose place are we at, again?" Annabeth asked.

"His name is Balthazar. A rogue angel, living a life of ease and inequity here on Earth." Cas said, his tone becoming slightly acidic as he mentioned Balthazar.

"So, this is the guy you come to in case of emergencies?"

"Not exactly. But he's the only being on the planet who might be able to hide us until we can figure out some sort of plan."

"Hide us?"

"Yes. We are now sort of wanted fugitives. We attacked an angel and defy the plan of Creation."

"Whoopee." Leo chimed in.

I banged my palm against the door.

"Balthazar, open up. I know you're in there." I called through the door.

There was no response.

I stepped back, and took a look at the place.

It was an old-school villa. The kind of places rich businessmen or celebrities have as a vacation home.

I walked back up to the door.

"You've got ten seconds before I let myself in, Balthazar." I threatened.

"What should that-" Percy began to ask.

"Balthazar's a bit materialistic." Anna said.

I waited an extra five seconds.

I summoned Fenris and shoved the blade straight through the door, all the way to the sword's hilt.

"For the love of… Alright, I'm coming! I'm coming." A voice yelled from inside.

I pulled Fenris out of the door, smirking.

"Guess he hasn't grown much of a spine in the last three-hundred years?" Cas asked.

"Not even a little." I replied.

The door opened, and an unshaven man with shoulder-length dark hair gazed at me reproachfully.

"You know how old that door is?" Balthazar asked me.

"I neither know, nor do I care. At all, Balthazar." I gestured to everyone else. "We need a place to crash, four days tops. Got world-saving plans that don't need to be interrupted by any outside parties." I walked towards him, still smirking.

"But-"

"Thanks for putting us all up. Your generosity will not be forgotten." I brushed past him.

"But-"

Cas followed me.

"B-"

Anna and the rest of the gang followed Cas.

"You know, I put up with a lot, to help you guys out. But I seem to recall that the last time you stopped in for a visit," Balthazar pointed at me, "You said you would not take advantage of my non-existent hospitality-"

"Balthazar, I'm sorry to interrupt that well-prepared and rehearsed rant, but if we had any other problem, I swear, I wouldn't be here." I said, truthfully. Balthazar might have been the equivalent of an angelic deadbeat, lounging around and having high times on Earth, ignoring any sort of responsibility, but I couldn't really blame him for his choice of defying the life he'd been told to live. What were Cas and I, if not the same thing? Besides the fact that we were actually noble.

"Oh, so what is it this time? Piss off a General in the Dark Army? Sleep with the wrong angel? Accidentally kill another diplomat?" Balthazar asked angrily.

"It's the Endwar, smart-ass. Though I did kind of decapitate Nazarra, but that's not the point." I said hurriedly.

"Wait. You said 'Endwar'?" Balthazar asked, voice almost shuddering.

"Yeah. The Endwar. And everyone who could stop it is sitting back, twiddling their thumbs and letting it happen. We're here to figure out how to do what everyone else won't."

"Everyone else? So, you two aren't here at the behest of the Agents?"

"All the Agents who wouldn't agree with Heaven to let the Endwar happen have been killed. Except me and Cas."

"So, if they find you here… I'll have been harboring fugitives."

I stepped closer to him, and held my face right up in his.

"We both know you've harbored a lot worse than us, Balthazar."

His eyes shifted from side-to-side a few times.

"Fours days tops?" he asked quietly.

"That's all we'll need." I said.

He nodded.

"Alright then."


	38. Chapter 38

**Note: As I said, I plan to get newly written content to the point where I will be able to upload pre-written chapters so the story doesn't dry up over the impending First College Quarter Hiatus. As such, updates will, for the next couple of days, come as quickly as I can manage. I can't promise my plan will actually work out though, so….Yeah. If I were to give you a timeline, I'd say we're maybe four chapters or less (counting this one) from being able to make the hiatus the least-hiatus-like hiatus ever.**

**But enough about the logistics. As far as this chapter goes, some background will follow, and I can't say any more than that. Please review and comment. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 38

"So, come up with a plan to save the world yet?" Balthazar asked me.

I looked up from the surface of the old mahogany coffee table.

"No." I said forcefully.

"Well, let me know when you do."

"Why? What do you care about this world, Balthazar?"

He turned and fixed me with a very pointed, sad look.

"Despite what you may think of me, I actually do care about what happens to this planet."

"Is there some incredibly shallow reason at the source of that care?"

Balthazar just sighed and walked out of the room.

I was admittedly being a little harsh on the guy. Angel. Whatever. But I was under a lot of stress. Coming up with a plan to prevent the Apocalypse is kind of a daunting task when you actually try and accomplish it.

I shifted my gaze back down to the table and got back into my contemplative mindset, disconnecting from everything around me, focusing only on what I knew and how I could use that to solve the problem that had been put in front of me.

Suddenly, the answer hit me.

It was so obvious, I couldn't believe I hadn't figured it out before. Maybe the insanity of the idea was what kept if from my head.

The Endwar would be set in motion when Lucifer broke free from his Cage. As Cas had said, things would deteriorate from there. Horsemen would have their fun, and Lucifer and Michael would ultimately engage in the mother of all sibling grudge matches.

At the end of everything, half the planet would be gone, if expectations could be believed. It would still be there, but in such an absolute wreck that nothing could live on it. The other half would be remade as the victor saw fit.

But all of this came back to one thing. One being whose presence was absolutely necessary for the whole thing to go off.

Lucifer.

I walked out onto the balcony. Everyone else had been sitting around there, leaving my own personal planning method to me while they worked at theirs.

I noticed Cas and Anna weren't there.

"Anyone seen Cas? Or Anna?" I asked at random. "I think I finally came up with something."

"Haven't seen either of them in about a day." Jason said.

"A day?"

"Yeah."

"Well, where the hell could-" I said angrily, turning around unconsciously, and saw something truly stupefying.

Cas was coming up from the cellar. The only clothes he had on were his dark dress pants.

He had a bottle of wine in his hand.

He saw me looking, gave me a light smirk, and walked off in the direction of the guest bedrooms.

"Cas, wait, wait! That was made before you were even trapped in Purgatory and…" Balthazar was saying, sprinting up the cellar steps and hurrying after him.

We all just stood there, gazing at the cellar door, wondering how to react.

"I'd forgotten how focused he could get with her." I said to no-one in particular.

"What's the deal with those two?" Piper asked.

"Cas and Anna? Long story, so I'll give you the short version: They ran into each other when Cas was on-the-clock, tracking down a fallen angel. Three guesses who that was."

"Anna?"

"You won final Jeopardy. They've had that thing going pretty much ever since, and it got way easier when Anna got back into the Halo-and-Wings-club's good books."

"Why would that make it easier?"

"Angels and Agents often come into contact given the nature of their duties. Made midnight rendezvous easy and they could pass it off as work."

"Speaking of, what was that Balthazar said about you sleeping with the wrong angel again?" Leo asked.

"Oh. Right. That. That was...that was nothing, really. Well, no, not nothing, but-" I rambled.

"What happened?" Thalia piped in from the far end of the balcony, looking oddly amused at this turn of conversation.

"Well, she kind of came onto me, and then when she found out I was a demon she kinda tried to…scalp me. For starters. Hence why I needed to hide out with Balthazar."

For some reason, everybody else found this extremely funny.

"_Anyway_, I think I have something." I said angrily.

"Well what are we waiting on them for? Let's-" Leo began.

"Whoa. You don't want to interrupt angels in the middle of… actually, you don't even want to get a glimpse of it happening."

"Why?"

"Something to do with the true forms of angels burning out the eyes and minds of those who look upon them. No biggie."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Don't worry. Give them a day, tops. And a bit of slack. It's been almost three-hundred years, and a presumed death. Lot of lost time to catch up on."


	39. Chapter 39

**Note: Sorry for the long period between updates, but I had a major scare with my class schedule that kinda distracted me. I'm not sure I'll be able to hit the point of being able to update during the hiatus, but I'm still going to try. As such, some content has been re-organized in the story timeline to try and accomplish that (and because its original placement didn't make much sense when I really thought about it). Sorry to bog you guys down with logistics updates again. Not much to say here.**

**Please, review and comment (so I know to keep this up). I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 39

Cas and Anna walked out onto the balcony a day later.

"Catch up enough?" I asked, slight sarcasm in my voice.

"I'd say so." Cas said, not paying attention to my tone.

"Good. I think I finally figured out what we have to do to stop the Endwar."

"What?"

"It's simple, actually. So simple I can't believe I didn't realize it before. We take out Lucifer."

Cas just stared at me for a minute, uncomprehending.

"I'm sorry, I thought you said we need to take out Lucifer." He said in a tone of utter disbelief.

"That's exactly what I said."

"And what makes you think we can even do that?"

"I don't know. But we have to try. He's it, Cas. He's the Endwar's linchpin. Literally everything depends on him being around and alive to fight his brother. So, if we can take him down before that happens-"

"Well yeah. You make it sound so easy."

"You have any other ideas?" I asked angrily.

Cas stayed silent for a moment.

"No. But I don't think we should just charge headlong into a plan to kill the King of Hell-"

"Astaroth's technically the king."

"Whatever. You know what I mean. We can't just wait for him to break free and then hit him until he dies. You know what we're dealing with. We need to plan this out."

"And here I though we'd gotten past the stage of planning impossible tasks."

"You know," Percy said "Why don't we go for the other guy?"

"The other guy?" Anna asked.

"The brother Lucifer's supposed to fight?"

"Because that would probably be worse than the Endwar, Percy," I said. "Michael might be borderline apathetic, but he is not Lucifer. Lucifer is… petulant, sadistic. He's borderline sociopathic. Michael is the only being in existence who would give Lucifer pause. We take out Michael, there'd be nothing to stop Lucifer having his way with the world. And that is something none of us should be so unfortunate as to see. Like it or not, if we're gonna do this, we're going to have to cut it close."

"Well, we've done that before."

"We all have. How many times have you had just twenty-four hours to do something impossible over a ridiculous amount of distance?"

"About six. Maybe seven."

"I feel your pain. So, we all agreed? Anyone want out?"

I stood there, feeling foolish for even asking.

"Observe the complete and total lack of movement." Leo piped in.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes: I swore to myself I wouldn't bog you down with logistics in this notes section, so let's just get right to it. Please review and comment. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 40

"Well, you won't have to put up with us for much longer, Balthazar." I said, leaning against the doorway out to the balcony. It was late, near midnight, so everyone who wasn't an inhuman supernatural entity was sleeping.

"Really? You guys actually figure something out?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"Yeah. It's a real long shot, though."

"You're trying to defy destiny and God to save the world. You didn't really think it'd be easy, did you?"

I turned slightly and looked at him, smiling.

"Since when did you get so insightful?" I asked.

"I managed to get a century to myself for a change." He replied, laughing slightly.

"Yeah, right."

"No, really. Get some time alone, to reflect on things, on yourself. It's amazing how much of an eye-opener things like that are."

"So you've gone zen on us now, have you?"

"Very funny." Balthazar turned away and walked towards the steps. "Oh, and Cas owes me for that bottle from the other day."

"I'll pass the word along."

Balthazar went up the steps, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I couldn't help but wonder what I was thinking. Kill Lucifer before he could find and fight Michael. Maverick had always joked that I set high goals for myself. I was certainly proving him right.

I decided to turn in. I didn't need to sleep, but figured it couldn't hurt anyway.

I was halfway to the guest rooms when I felt odd. Unsettled. Like something was watching me.

I turned around, gazing intently down the hallway, and saw nothing.

I heard something above me let a low, long hiss.

"There's something really bad above me, isn't there?" I said to myself.

I looked up.

A dark silhouette with glowing yellows eyes, claws, and fangs dropped onto me from the ceiling.

It dragged me to the floor and quickly clambered on top of me, reaching it's large, drooling, giant-fang-filled mouth towards my face. Looking closely, I recognized it.

It was a form of demon. A nightstalker. Capable of fading into shadows and darkness.

I held my palms up and shoved outward.

The nightstalker flew off of me and crashed into the table back in the living room.

I ran forward, figuring the racket would wake everyone else.

I got to the living room, and saw no trace of the stalker.

Then I realized the room was nearly pitch-black, except for a tiny streak of moonlight coming in through one of the windows at the far end of the room.

I let myself slowly shift into my more natural demonic form, my eyes adjusting to the dark and seeing things no normal eyes could.

I saw about twenty nightstalkers, clinging to the ceiling, walls, fridge, anywhere there wasn't light.

"Shit." I said to myself.

The nightstalkers all hissed and leaped at me.

I was in a flurry of black skin, claws, and demon blood for about another minute, before I saw everyone racing down the hallway that lead to the guest rooms.

"Leo!" I yelled.

"What?" He called back.

"Flame on!"

"What?"

"Do the fire thing!"

He looked slightly perplexed as why he ought to. I couldn't blame him.

Unless you had, well, not-human eyes, you couldn't see nightstalkers when they were in any sort of darkness.

Unfortunately for them, they didn't like light of any sort.

And Leo was a human campfire.

He raced ahead of the rest of the crew, and flamed up when he got near me.

Suddenly, the room was illuminated, and everyone else could see the twenty dark demons crawling all over me.

Those caught in the light Leo cast started screeching and writhing, their skin bubbling and smoldering.

Cas strode forward and held out his hand, which was starting to glow.

"Shield your eyes!" He yelled.

We all did as he said.

The light was so bright, I could still see it easily though my closed eyelids.

When it dimmed, I opened my eyes.

The nightstalkers were all lying on the floor, long tongues lolling out of their mouths, blood running form their eyes and noses.

"Why don't you do that all the time?" I asked Cas.

"It's difficult to-" He began to say.

He never finished, because the whole left half of the villa exploded and blasted all of us back to the other side of the room.

Five huge, horned, pale-skinned shapes stepped through the smoke. Each had a large axe in one hand, a cruel-looking sword in the other.

They were demonic warriors of the Legion.

"Any chance you can do that thing again?" I asked Cas.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes: Hot damn! We made it! We've hit the point in the story where I will be able to put up pre-written chapters during the hiatus! Though, now that I think about it, it won't really be much a hiatus, then. Whatever. Point is, the story will be continuing throughout the next few months, instead of going into hibernation like I originally thought it would. Not much to say about the forthcoming chapter content, though. Actually, strike that. New character inbound! And it'll be a bit longer than usual, as it's the final newly written chapter for a while, and I feel like going out for a few months on a high note (and keeping all this in one chapter, as I'll be pretty busy for the next few days and probably wouldn't be able to write the two chapters all this info really ought to go in, keeps things easier for me). Please review and comment (so I know those of you who've favorited and whatnot are all still interested). I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 41

I looked up at the five towering demonic warriors that had just collectively destroyed half of Balthazar's villa, and probably Balthazar himself.

They really couldn't have found a better time to try and kill us. Over half the group was still a bit sleep-muddled, I had just wrestled through twenty nightstalkers, and Cas and Anna, well, they actually didn't really have any sort of impediment going for them, but they were still up against five demonic Legionnaires. Those were not good odds.

Thankfully, we managed to maintain our standard 'Screw the odds.' approach.

That is to say, we attacked them head-on.

I went for the one in the middle, jumping up and swinging Fenris at his neck.

Cas dove at the two on the right, aiming for their legs with Ragnarok.

Anna went to drive her knife into the guts of one of the two on the left.

Percy, Jason, Piper, Leo, Annabeth, Hazel, Frank, and Thalia piled on the last one.

Our apparent sudden-choice tactic of doing something so utterly crazy our opponents wouldn't be able to react worked.

For about ten seconds.

I managed to saw through about half the neck of the Legionnaire in the middle before he got his bearings and thrust his sword straight up, nearly spearing me through my…well, let's just say I was glad I managed to jump out of the way. I would have lost something extremely important otherwise.

Cas went through the legs of one of the two he'd been going for, but the other one just managed to back away, and brought his axe down in an overhead slash that Cas just managed to sidestep. Even then, the sheer force of the blow knocked him back a few paces.

Anna's thrust was knocked aside contemptuously, and her head was almost taken clean off by a sword. She definitely lost some hair when she ducked, but considering fighting had never been her thing, she had just accomplished more than most beings who fought Legionnaires ever did. That is to say, most who aren't Agents die within the first ten seconds of the fight.

The gang seemed to be able to keep their target off-balance, what with the six sharp weapons and lightning and fire and shape-shifter they had going for them. But then he turned the tables and sent them all crashing through the back wall and out onto the lawn with one sweeping swing of the flat of his axe.

Distracted as I was by seeing how everyone else was doing, I never saw my Legionnaire's fist heading for my face. Until it put me through the wall, that is.

I raised my head from the grass and saw Cas and Anna leap through the openings in the wall out onto the lawn, to join the rest of us.

The Legionnaires followed, moving at a leisurely pace. They were the deadliest warrior Hell had to offer, and they figured they could take their time with things like us.

"Cas, now would be a really great time to do that glowing hand thing again." I said.

"Why do you think I haven't?" Cas said angrily, lifting me to my feet.

"Don't tell me that's a one-off!" I exclaimed.

"Not exactly. But-"

"Smiting?"

"You read my mind."

"We do have two angels here."

"Keep them occupied, and maybe finish what you started with the middle one. We might make it out of this."

We all gathered together and got ready to charge.

Then, a blinding light burst into existence between us and the Legionnaires.

When it faded, there was man standing on the lawn.

He looked about thirty. He had a slight scruff of facial hair, like he'd shaved recently, but without putting any real force into it. His face had lines that looked like they had their origins in far too many smiles, rather than simple age. His hair, coming down his neck in almost-mullet that ended well above the neck of his jacket, was a rich brown. A dark green jacket covered a black button-down shirt, and slightly dirty jeans and a black belt were above old, dirty sneakers.

His face had a slight elfish quality to it, like he was secretly planning some sort of mischief at all times, but there was something else as well; a kind of inherent regality, something indicating that this was a being of tremendous power and importance, even if he didn't quite look like it at first.

He smiled lightly, then turned and faced the Legionnaires. He held up his hand, and a blinding light exploded from his palm. He dropped his hand, but the light remained.

He turned around and looked at us. He held his right hand out, palm-up, and flicked two fingers towards himself.

I felt myself yanked towards him by an invisible force.

He reached out and grabbed my arm.

Suddenly, I felt like I was moving and twisting at incredibly high speeds. I couldn't feel anything beneath my feet for a few seconds, then I felt as though I had slammed feet-first onto solid ground, which I had.

The man released my arm, and I fell backwards. As did everyone else.

He had somehow transported the entire group off of the lawn and away from the Legionnaire-infested villa.

I slowly got to my feet, fighting back a slight sense of vertigo and nausea.

Others didn't handle it as well. Leo had to turn away and heave a couple of times.

"Yeah, sorry about the rough ride, but it was a bit of a quick fix. Can't really plan out a smooth flight when you need to get away really fast." The man said, smirking slightly.

"Who are you?" I asked. I didn't care that he had just probably saved our lives. I was one of the most wanted beings in existence, and I wasn't about to start trusting mystery men who swooped in for last-minute rescues.

"Well, your angel buddies should know me, right?" The man said, indicating Cas and Anna with one of his hands.

"Sorry, but I don't know you." Anna said.

"Neither do I," Cas added. "You seem familiar though."

The man sighed. "Gone for a few billion years, and already forgotten."

"Did you just actually say a few billion years?" Frank asked.

"Yeah. Well, since I'm clearly not as memorable as I thought, I guess I'll just have to tell you who I am." He moved his arms in a little flourish. "Gabriel, at your service."

"Wait-a-minute," I interrupted. "Gabriel? As in the archangel Gabriel?"

"The one and only." His lips titled upwards into a little smile.

He quickly took a step back and put his hands up, as I had Fenris in-hand and pointed at his chest.

"Hey," He half-laughed "What got you up on the wrong side of bed this morning, ah?"

"You're an archangel. That's what…I'm not even going to repeat that sentence, but that's what got me." I said fiercely.

"And why should that make you point a sword at me?"

"I don't know if you know this, but the other archangels are kinda letting the Apocalypse happen. Everyone here didn't exactly agree with that, so we're all on Heaven's hit-list."

"Really?" Gabriel asked. It wasn't a question phrased as though he was asking if I was telling the truth. More like he was asking if I was serious about what the other archangels were doing.

"Really." I said.

"God," Gabriel said exasperatedly "I always knew Michael was a bit of a apathetic dick, but…shit."

The fact that he said even half of that left everyone speechless.

"What?" I finally asked.

"Yeah, big surprise I have no love lost for my robot of an older brother." Gabriel said.

"So, you're not here to-" I started to ask.

"Take you to the God Squad in chains? No. I'm here to help you." Gabriel said this as though it should have been obvious.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why help us? Why stop the Endwar?"

"Everyone here in the know knows what that'll mean. Half of this world goes down the tubes, and the other half gets turned into something it's not."

"That really doesn't answer my question."

"Maybe if I provide a little context?"

"Like why you say you've been gone for a few billion years?"

"Yep." He looked at me expectantly.

"Keep talking." I said.

"You all know the old story, right? Lucifer rebels against Dad, Michael kicks his ass eight ways to Sunday, and he gets cast into Hell afterwards?" Gabriel asked the bunch of us. We all nodded. "Well, it wasn't nearly that quick, easy, or simple. Michael, Raphael, and Lucifer, they went at it for a long time. A really long time. I never picked a side in that fight, cause I wouldn't fight my brothers. Eventually, I couldn't stand sitting in the bleachers anymore, and just left. Left Heaven and came here. To Earth. I've been here since the very beginning, before man ever got out of Eden and Dad built up that Greek stuff to do the little things."

"So that's why you are so un-angel-like?" I interrupted. "You've been here that long?"

"Yeah. So, you gonna let me finish?"

"Sorry."

"Anyways, like I said, I've been on this planet, with people, since the start, pretty much. I've seen them at their best, and worst. It's funny. People. humans in general really, are the reason we're all here right now." He saw how confused we all looked. "The reason Lucy rebelled, that Michael kicked his ass? Humans. See, Lucifer didn't like humans. At all. Said they were broken, flawed, and thought they didn't give Dad enough respect. Then Dad told all of us to look after the new kids, to make them our number one priority, that maybe they were even a bit better than us. That's where Lucifer got his opinion of people from, and that's what made him give Dad the finger. You ever talk to him, he'll play the victim, say it was all done out of love, but he's either bullshitting you, or he's just that deluded. Probably a bit of both. Point is, he hates humans, and my other brothers don't have a very good opinion of them either. But me? I've been with them from the start. Sure, humans are flawed. No-one disputes that, not even humans. But Dad was right. Humans are better. Than angels and demons both. Cause they can see that they're not perfect, they can admit it, and they try to make themselves better. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm helping you. I've been on the sidelines for too long, but I'm getting back in the game now. On your side. The side that saves the world."

We all just stood there for a few seconds.

"Y'know, given that there are eight half-humans standing right in front of you, that way you talked about us in third-person was kinda weird." Leo said.

"Yeah, I guess, but-" Gabriel started to say.

"Alright, yeah, the speech was little jargon-y." I interrupted. I walked up to Gabriel and held out my hand. "Glad to have you on the team."

He took my hand and shook it.

"Glad to be on it."

"Now, aside from saving us from unwinnable fights, what else can you offer to the cause of saving the world from the Endwar?" I asked.

"I figure you've figured out how you stop it, right? You take out Lucifer." Gabriel asked. I nodded. "Well, I know someone who might be able to help you with that."

"Who?" I asked.

"Therein lies the issue. You won't be able to find him. None of you will. Only I can, because I'm the only guy in existence who knows he's still alive."

"Fine. Take us to him."

Gabriel smiled again.

"Just grab on, and I'll take you to him."

He held out his arm.

We all reached for it.

The instant our hands closed over it, that feeling of swirling movement swept over me again.


	42. Chapter 42

**Note: I am profoundly sorry for the lack of updates over the last couple months, but I've been busy with college, and not going insane from college. I do feel I need to say, I still have no idea when I'll be getting in updates, as finals are bearing down, and I'll need to start job-hunting soon thereafter. I just want it known I have not given up on this, despite the evidence to the contrary. Please, review and comment. I do not own Percy Jackson nor any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 42

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Eden." Gabriel said.

"That's impossible. Eden doesn't exist anymore." Castiel said.

"Oh it exists. You just need to know how to get there." Gabriel replied.

The light from the portal dimmed, and I looked out a dank, grey ruin of a mountain-city.

Towers, once gilded and mighty, now crumbling heaps. Pathways shattered, tiles blowing in the wind. An enormous tree grew out of the large, decaying palace a the center of the city.

It would have been a paradise, if it hadn't all been dead and ruined.

"Yeah. You should've seen this place when it was alive." Gabriel said, wistfully gazing up at the city.

"You were here?"

"Yeah. I left home when Lucy and Mikey were duking it out, hung here for a few millennia. Left about a hundred years before it all came down."

"How'd it-"

"That's not my place to tell you that."

"Well, what are we doing here?"

"We're here because there is one guy here who might be able to help us figure out how to stop what my brother has got cooking." He looked up at the city. "And we've got a long walk to get to him."

We did have a long walk. Gabriel stayed silent for all of it.

Finally, we reached what looked like had once been the equivalent to the town square. A man in a dark grey coat was sitting at a campfire in the middle.

"Let me handle this." Gabriel said.

He approached the man at the fire.

"Hey, man." He said as he neared.

The man stayed silent. He didn't even look up from the fire.

"So, uh-"

"What do you want, Gabriel?" The man asked. He sounded tired, hurt, strung out, desperate, and mildly crazy all at once.

"I, uh, need your help with something."

"I lost the capacity and emotional need to help beings five billion years ago, Gabriel. You came to the wrong place. Now, please leave."

"Listen, man, this is really important-"

"I don't particularly care what problems you might be having. I'll ask you again, to please leave."

"Well, I can't. I really need you help."

Suddenly, the man was on his feet, holding a long knife, the tip hovering level with Gabriel's chest.

The man was still looking at the fire.

"I'm not asking you now, Gabriel, I'm telling you: Leave."

I walked forward quickly.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Pulling a weapon on the only guest you've got? Not very hospitable."

The man turned and looked at me. His eyes had a look about them, a mixture of madness, despair, and tiredness, like he'd seen things no-one ever ought to, and had been living with those memories forever.

"Well, your standards have certainly slipped." He said, dropped the knife down.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Well, I'd say I'm hurt that I'm that easily and quickly forgotten, but the honest truth is I'm not surprised at all that you don't know who I am. Given that existence at large believes me dead and buried."

"That's not an answer."

"You didn't give me the opportunity to finish. My name is Adam."


	43. Chapter 43

**Note:When picturing Adam, just picture Michael Emerson(aka Benjamin Linus from Lost). Also, sorry for the long time between updates, but I've been in a much-needed period of post-first-quarter-of-college decompression. But, as of now, I'm back and fairly committed to continuing this. So, to finally type those old familiar phrases once again: Please review and comment, as they let me know that people are still interested. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson or any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 43

"You're Adam?" I asked.

"Yes, I do believe so." He said.

"Like, _the_ Adam?"

"You know of any other men named Adam associated with Eden?"

"Is that a serious question, or are you being sarcastic?"

"That's up to you to decide. Now, why did Gabriel bring you here?"

"He said there was someone here who could help us figure out how to stop Lucifer from ending the world."

Adam shifted on the balls of his feet.

"Well, let's hope I can live up to his expectations." He looked down. "If I am capable to doing what I need to do to help you, I will. But you must promise me something."

"What?"

"That after I have helped you, you will do me a favor."

"What will that favor involve?"

"I can't tell you that. Not yet. But I want your word, or you'll have made this very long trip for nothing. And all the souvenir shops here are closed, so you won't even have a crappy t-shirt to dull the pain. Promise me the favor, and I'll do what I can."

"Done."

"Alright. Walk with me. I'll explain as we go."

"So, how are you still here? I thought-"

"You thought I was banished, along with my wife. Take a look around you, the place doesn't fit the legend. Only three beings in existence are still alive that know the whole, real story, and two of them are right here."

"So what's the real story?"

"For one, it wasn't just me and my wife. This city look like it was built for two? At it's hight, there were a million people living in Eden. And me and Eve were their leaders."

"What about Lillith?"

"Well, she didn't work out. Didn't want to do things according to the Big Man's plan, and a certain black sheep of the family offered her a much better deal, so I technically re-married."

"Technically?"

"It was somewhat arranged on His part, but I did love her myself. She was one of the reasons Lillith left. But it worked real well, after that. It was beautiful, peaceful. Perfect."

"So what happened?"

"What is it with people asking questions they already know the answers to? We were tricked by my ex's new boss. We were convinced to partake the Fruit of Knowledge, and we led every last person of Eden over the cliff with us."

"What do you mean?"

"There are a few sayings humans have these days that sum it up pretty well. 'Knowledge is power.' 'Power corrupts'. 'Power is a drink: the more you have, the more you want, and there's few people who can handle it.' Every other person but me and Eve went mad. Tore the city down around them, butchered each other in the streets, and remembered in the backs of their deranged minds who led them to this. Who they put their trust in, and what those two did with that trust. So they came after us. And we had to kill them. Each and every one." His voice had cracked.

We all stopped walking.

"And the part were you're still here?"

"Well, sending us out of here is really more of a favor, don't you think? Banishing us from what was left would've been a kindness. SInglehandedly dooming the human race does not get you rewarded with kindness."

"Where is she?"

"'She' who?"

"Eve. Where is she?"

"You'll see."

He started walking again.


	44. Chapter 44

**Note: I'm going to try and put up chapters on a weekly basis, in the interest of keeping myself from burning out by writing and uploading tons of chapters each week. So, we're going to try a weekly schedule until Jan. 6(Winter quarter classes start up then, and I'll need some time immedietley afterwards to figure out whether or not I'll be able to spare the time during winter quarter to write quality chapters and be able to keep up with school. Just letting you all know in advance.) Anyways; I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson nor any affiliated characters. Please review, comment, and criticize if you feel so inclined, as such notes let me know that people remain interested.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 44

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"To the Tree." Adam replied.

"The Tree of Knowledge?"

"Yes, that'd be the one."

"Why?"

"Because if you can handle what it shows you, you'll know what you need to know to be able to stop Lucifer."

"So, you're saying we're going to use what you just admitted drove nearly a million people crazy and by extension doomed the human race on the off chance we might learn how to stop Lucifer?"

"There's no off chance here. I saw this whole mess you've landed in a billion years before Lucifer could even think about trying to set it in motion. You do this, you'll learn what you need to learn."

"You're out of your mind."

"That's between me and my mind, but what other option do you have?"

"You're implying singular usage here."

"Yes, I am. Just you. You do it, no-one else."

"Why just me?"

"Because you're the only here I trust to be able to handle it."

"Handle what?"

"The truth."

"Please don't tell me you're going to make that joke now."

"Hide behind cynicism, that doesn't change the facts. That's how the Fruit works. It shows you things, teaches you things, things you don't want to acknowledge, things you can't bear to know. You're whole life has been nothing but series of revelations and realizations that would break anyone else."

"What do you think you now about me?"

"You were raised in Hell, by the First, Lillith. You spent the first five hundred years of your life torturing the few souls who found their way to Hell, and convincing them on the basis of redemption and altruism to torture their peers."

"Shut up."

"You found out that that stance of redemption and altruism was nothing but a lie, that the only reason demons torture humans in Hell is because it gives them a focus for all their anger and sorrow, and you tried to get out, to get away. And your own mother stopped you and handed you over to the best Hell had to offer."

"I mean it."

"He worked you over for something like a century, before you finally managed to come up with an escape plan that worked. Then you were stuck out on Earth, trying to fight your own nature. And you nearly lost that fight, and you would have, if Agents hadn't found you. You thought you'd found where you were supposed to be, found your purpose. But it turned out killing your own kind for eternity isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Adam-"

"Then your mentor, the man who was like the father you never knew, sacrifices himself for you. You soldier on without him for about three hundred years before you almost die in the 1960s. Your superiors decide to keep you waiting, figuring they can drop you in as a sleeper agent when they need one. And they do, fifty years later. They dump you in Camp Halfblood with no memory and only a few imprinted compulsions. As you go on, you get suspicions as to the true nature of the world and yourself, but you can't bring yourself to believe them, even with all the evidence piling up."

"I'm warning-"

"Then you die again, end up in place that you aren't meant to be in, and it all comes flooding back, and your mind nearly breaks. You go to get your old teacher and find out along the way that you're basically dead on the inside. You find out that your style of torture in your early years is what let Hell get this far into their plans. And most of all, you fall in love. Desparatley, madly in love, but circumstance and your own cowardice snatch the object of your affections right out from under you. You try to make up for it, leave an in-case-of-death note, but then that plan goes awry when you come back to life. Now you're stuck, you can't make any move cause circumstances haven't changed,yet you've got the second chance you never dreamed you'd get, but you really don't do it because you know deep down it w-"

I lost it.

I drop-kicked him, and sent him flying over something like twenty steps.

He rolled down another thirty before he managed to stop himself.

He climbed back, smiling.

"See what I'm talking about. You've faced all of that and you're here, fairly sane. Who else are could do this?"

"Well, when you put it that way…"

We walked the rest of the way in silence. Finally, we reached the Tree of Knowledge. Or at least the part where we could get at the Fruit. The Tree itself was almost literally everywhere, branches and roots growing through the stone tiles and rafters.

"That is one big damn tree. So how does this work?" I asked.

"Simple. You pick a fruit, eat it, and we all stand weapons ready in case what it imparts overwhelms you."

"That actually is pretty simple."

"That's what I said isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Wait. I don't think you should-" Thalia began, but didn't continue.

"Hey, it's me, remember? I'll be fine."


	45. Chapter 45

**Note: Sorry I didn't show the effects of the Fruit of Knowledge, but I could never come up with anything good enough to show that. Just know that the OC passed out after saying he knew what had to be done. Please review and comment. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson nor any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 45

I woke up with Adam standing over me.

"You still owe me a favor." He said.

"You know how creepy that is?" I asked.

"I do. Meet me in the gardens when you're ready." He turned and walked off.

I got up and started getting dressed.

* * *

><p>I found Adam standing in one of the palace gardens, in front of some of the branches of the Tree. He was looking down at something.<p>

"Where's everyone else?"

"They're with Gabriel. He's going to teleport the lot of you back to Earth when you get to them. He's waiting where you all came in."

"You said I still owed you a favor."

"Indeed you do. But I imagine you'll appreciate some context first."

He stepped to one side, and I saw what he had been looking at.

"You asked where she was. This is where I met her, for the first time. This is where I fell in love with her." He said.

I was looking a cross, driven into the ground.

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"She killed herself. After we put the last of our people down in self-defense. She lasted about two hours after that, then she opened up her wrists right in front me. She told me that she knew what I'd think afterwards, that everything that had happened was my fault. She told me that it wasn't, that it was her fault too. It was a blame we both shared, she was just too weak to live with it. I told her that she wasn't weak at all, that she was the strongest woman I'd ever met. She told me she was sorry she was leaving me alone, and that she loved me. And then she died in my arms."

He turned and looked down at the ruins of Eden.

"You know," he said "My time here has taught me something: we only ever really needed God for Heaven. Everything else we could handle ourselves. Hell especially. We've definitely got that covered."

"So what's the favor, Adam?" I asked, trying not to think too hard about everything he'd just told me.

"A simple one, really. Something you do all the time." He turned and looked at me. His eyes were wet. "I'd like you to kill me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Kill me. I've had enough. I've suffered enough. I've paid enough for my mistake. Some might say that the result of what I did, I can never make up for, and they may be right. I'm the reason for all of this. I'm why you're here now. I'm why the Second War of Creation was fought, when Hell's part in this came to light. I'm why humanity is so warped and self-destructive and short-sighted. Humanity as a species on Earth was based on what came from Eden. And I turned mankind's template into a barely restrained psychotic. I know what I've done. And I've given my share of penance for that. I've been here for almost five billion years. Alone, with nothing but the thoughts of my crime as company. I tried so many times in so many ways to kill myself, but it never worked. Not once. But I've never tried to have someone else kill me. Gabriel wouldn't do it. He lacks the stomach for this kind of work, and I'd never ask it of him anyway. But you, you might manage it. Please. At the very least, try to kill me." He got to his knees. "I'm begging you." His voice cracked.

"If you're sure." I pulled out Fenris. "You have any sort of preference?"

"Just so long as you do it."

I shoved Fenris through his chest, and twisted it several times. Blood sprayed out of the wound, and spurted out of his mouth.

I slid the blade out of him, and he fell to the grass, limp. He laid there for a few seconds before his hands unclenched and he started breathing again.

"Well, it was worth a shot." He said, his voice muffled by the grass. "I'm not going to waste your time when you've got a world to save."

"I'm sorry." I said, and meant it with every bit of myself.

"What are you sorry about? I'm the reason I'm in this mess."

* * *

><p>I finally reached the spot where Gabriel had teleported us in. Everyone was milling around, looking anxious.<p>

"Sorry that took so long. Lot of damn steps." I said.

"You can't do that teleport thing?" Percy asked.

"Never tried to."

"How'd that promised favor go?"

I waited to answer that one. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell any of them exactly what Adam had asked me to do. I decided against it.

"Well enough." I turned to Gabriel.

"I'm assuming you know what we need to do now?" He asked.

"I always knew what we needed to do. Now I know how to do it." I said.

"What do 'we' need to do?"

"Kill Lucifer before he can fight Michael."

Gabriel started laughing.

"Oh, something simple then. Easy."

"Simple? Yes. Easy? No."

"Enlighten us, please."

"How about you first? What are the things in existence that can kill The Devil?"

"Well, there's my annoying older brother, there's the complete and total purification of humanity, there's the Sword of the Archangel… no way."

"Yes way."

"You want to steal the Sword of the Archangel?"

"No. We don't have the time or the ability to get that out of Heaven's hands. But I know some people who do."

"What people-" A look of comprehension then abject terror came over Gabriel's face. "No. You're not seriously thinking of-"

"Gabe…can I call you Gabe?"

"No."

"Gabe, they're the only option, and I'm not asking you to come with to meet them. Just drop us at their hangout, and we'll call you if we need you."

"Provided you survive."

"We will."

Gabriel grimaced, considering my argument before his posture slumped in defeat.

"Fine. Just let me check, see if they're even there." He disappeared.

"Who exactly are we going to for help that has him so pants-wettingly scared?" Leo asked.

"The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse." I replied.


	46. Chapter 46

**NOTE: Well, I almost didn't get this done in time, thanks to Christmas preparations, Christmas itself, and the post-Christmas gift over-enjoyment. But here we are, on what is probably one of my most anticipated chapters ever. I wanted to try something different with the Horsemen and provide little pictures of the actors who I feel best represent their characters, but the pictures didn't carry over. So, you'll just have to settle for their names.**

**Conquest: Alec Baldwin(in the Glengarry Glen Ross years.) **

**Death: Callum Keith Rennie. **

**War: George Clooney. **

**Famine: Rick Worthy. **

**Now, these are just for facial reference. I'll be describing their specific, badass, Horsemen-brand suits. Also, a word of warning, this chapter is going to be a bit more… grotesque than my previous ones. As to why, the content itself will explain that. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson nor any affiliate characters. Please review and comment.**

"You've got to be kidding me." Percy said, looking at the old bar-restaurant across the street. We were standing in the middle of downtown Chicago.

"I almost wish I was." I said.

"But… it's so obvious." He pointed to the bar, clearly focusing on the name.

_The Four Horsemen Pub and Restaurant_.

"So? That's probably why they go there. Bet they get kicks out of it."

"But, aren't they kinda some of the big bad guys? Why would they hang out in such a give-away place?"

"Cause no-one else is mad enough to mess with them. And they aren't that bad. Most of them are kinda dicks, but they're just doing their jobs." I replied.

"Right. So how do we do this?"

"_We_ don't do anything. I'm going in there to talk them around. The rest of you wait out here."

"That wasn't part of the plan." Thalia interjected.

"Did we actually discuss a plan?"

"No."

"Exactly. We are now, and this is the plan. I go in alone, talk them around, then we figure out what to do next while they get us the Sword of the Archangel."

"Why do you have to go in alone?" She asked angrily.

I sighed.

"I'm not quite sure all the non-higher-existence entities here get the full grasp of the situation, so I'll explain things in detail: the Four Horsemen don't just exist to add to the chaos of the Apocalypse. The only reason they're called the Four Horsemen is because no-one could ever come up with a better collective title. They're the physical manifestations of the things they're named for. War is, well, war. Everything that is war and can happen to people from war, War can cause. PTSD, economic resurgence, discontent populace, etcetera. We're dealing with the physical forms of Death, War, Conquest and Famine, and beings whose main duty is ensuring their namesakes happen where and when they need to. Their Apocalypse duties are just their last hog-wild hurrah." I explained.

"And we can't come with you because?"

"They have… well, let's just say they have violent effects on humans. Granted, most of you are half-human, but that's still probably enough. Cas, Death is still kinda peeved you didn't die in 1779. Anna, they don't know you at all."

"And you do know them?" Cas asked.

"I think so. We've crossed paths a couple times. I can't say they like me much, or even respect me. They're a bit to rightfully stuck up for that. But I'd like to think we at least know each other. To the point they'd listen to what I have to say." I looked at the bar, then back at Cas. He seemed to understand. I was asking him to stay back, and keep everyone out.

* * *

><p>I walked through the set of doors, and the first thing that hit me was the smell. It was blood and feces and burning flesh and burning food and death, with a bit of spunk and testosterone thrown in for good measure, all at once. Then I looked at the people who formerly been relaxing at the bar. They'd set upon each other, cutting with broken glasses, clawing with their nails and biting with their teeth. The corpse of the barkeep was slumped atop a pile of bodies, a blood-soaked shard of glass clutched in his fist, glasgow smiles carved on his patrons. A look of triumph frozen on his face. In a few dining seats, bodies were lying on the floor or slumped over the chairs, torn apart in various ways. A few were missing throats or innards, and it looked like a man in a leather jack was clenching someone else's face in his dead hands. Passing by the kitchen, I could see the bodies of cooks and waiters with faces and hands pressed against grills or shoved into ovens and vats of boiling oil in a desperate attempt to satisfy an unnatural hunger. Some were lying naked on top of each other, cold faces frozen in expressions of ecstasy.<p>

I was about to come to the other side of the bar when I saw the final victims. All of them were simply lying on the floor, dead. Not a mark on any of them. They were simply, inexplicably, peacefully dead.

* * *

><p>I came around to the other half of the bar. It was empty, save the four beings. War sat in a booth lining next to the jukebox, drinking from a glass of scotch and taking bites of an unfeasibly rare cheeseburger. He wore a blood-red suit sans tie, with a black dress shirt beneath it. Conquest had taken an entire circular eight-person booth in a far back corner for himself, sipping a glass of white wine and slicing into a New York strip steak. He had on a spotless white suit, complete with white tie and dress shirt. Famine, in a dark green suit and gray dress shirt, was propped up against the bar. He was drinking a beer, occasionally reaching to grab a small of handful of nuts or chips from various baskets on the bar while he gazed at the only working TV screen, which flickered between the ongoing Cubs game and still images of starving people. Death sat alone at a small two-person table, making small cuts in an piece of deep-dish pizza, a mug of root beer next to his plate. With his black pea coat and simple black tie, he looked the least regal of the four. But looks could be, and in this case most certainly were, deceiving.<p>

War reached over and tapped the jukebox. A record slid into place and the opening notes to Guns n Roses' _Welcome to the Jungle_ began to waft through the room.

I stepped forward and cleared my throat.

"Gentlemen." I said as respectfully as I could.

**Endote: Well. Sorry if that was disgusting, but… well that's kinda what I was going for anyway. Also, for those who prefer a bit of British with their Death, here's an alternative:**

**Daniel Craig (With Skyfall shag). **


	47. Chapter 47

**NOTE: Almost missed it again. This will, in all likelihood, be the last update for some time. Mostly because I'll be going back to school. As such, updates may very well stop for the next eleven weeks. Maybe I'll be able to get a chapter or two in, but I also maybe won't. Just warning everyone. Anyways. Please review and comment. I own nothing relating to Percy Jackson nor any affiliated characters.**

Who Am I?

Chapter 47

"Still got balls, I'll give you that." War said.

"Some things you can't loose." I replied.

"Can't argue with that."

Famine swallowed a handful of nuts. "What exactly are you here to do? Take us out of the equation?" He started laughing, and the TV flickered from a strikeout to a deathly thin man lying on a bed. "You're going to need a lot more help."

"Looks like he's brought it." Conquest offered, pointing behind me with a knife.

I turned around and saw Castiel, Anna, and the gang standing in the doorway of the other half of the bar.

I sighed angrily and walked up to Castiel.

"You were supposed to keep everyone out of here." I whispered angrily. The whispering was more out of habit than for any real use. I had no doubt that the Horsemen could hear every word I was saying.

"You were taking your time." He said, as though it was obvious.

"It's been like five minutes."

"Five minutes with The Four."

"Well, I can't fault you there. Just, leave this to me, alright?"

"Fair enough."

I stepped back. Everyone else crept into the room.

War peeked through the group, and spotted Frank. He smiled. He snapped his fingers and pointed, and the group parted as though pushed by some invisible force. War took a long look at the Frank.

"Mars' kid, right?" He asked. He took a sip of scotch.

"Yeah, that's right." Frank said nervously.

"How's the little poser doing?"

"Uh…good, I guess. Who are you, exactly?"

"Let me give you a hint: I was in Germany. Then Germany. My beeper paged in Darfur." He smirked. "I've been having an absolute ball in the Middle East lately." Frank pursed his lips, and got a furious look in his eye.

"Brother, we kind of have business to conduct here." Conquest called.

"So?" War asked.

"So hold all irrelevant conversation until we're done."

War opened his mouth to respond, ignoring the daggers Frank was staring at him.

A sudden clinking sound cause him to shut it. Death had set down his knife and fork. He turned his head slightly in my direction. I slowly approached his table.

"Sit." He said, not looking at me.

I cautiously did as he said. Death picked a little bit of crust off his plate and looked at me.

"So. What are you here for?" He asked.

"You don't already know?" I asked. Death was a being who could learn most anything he wanted to.

"I have an idea. But, do you know what you are here for?"

"Of course I know what I'm here for."

"So, what do you want?"

I paused, collected myself. I was about to make a demand of four of the most powerful beings in existence.

"I need your help. To stop the Endwar." I said.

"Why would we help you do that?" War asked.

I was thrown for a second. I'd expected most questions to come from Death, but he was acting unusually reserved.

"Because, with all due respect, I know you Four. I know that however much some of you, who shall remain nameless, are looking forward to the Endwar, I know that each of you can't stand the thought of taking orders. And that's what you'll be doing if the Endwar. Taking orders. From Lucifer, no less." I looked around. There were subtle shifts in the posture and expression of each of the Horsemen but Death. I could tell this was something they hadn't really considered. That they hadn't thought in such banal terms. "What exactly would you require of us?" Death asked.

"I need you to break into The Vault and get me The Sword of the Archangel."

Conquest started laughing.

Death give him a long-suffering look.

"If you will excuse us. We need to talk." He said.

Suddenly, the Four had vanished.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I hopped the bar and grabbed a bottle and glass.

"I didn't think you drank." Percy said.

"I don't. But dealing with the Four…" I left things at that.

I took a quick drink of whatever was in the bottle. It tasted like vodka. "I'd forgotten how weak human liquor is." I offered.

"Weak?"

"Trust me. Grow up with demonic drink, all other things pale in comparison."

The Four suddenly reappeared. Famine smiled at me.

"Getting a little liquid courage?" He asked.  
>"More like a little liquid nerve calmer." I replied.<p>

Famine laughed lightly at that.

"So?" I asked.

"We'll do it." Death said.

"Thank you. You don't know what that means."

"I know exactly what it means."

They turned and filed out into the body-filled half of the building. War tapped Frank on the nose as he passed.

When the sound of the door opening and closing cut through the silence, everyone seemed to relax.

"What do we do now?" Castiel asked.

I thought for a minute.

"I don't know." I said.


End file.
